Automatic Flowers
by Sadieclay
Summary: Dave and Kerry clear surgery, Dave and Elizabeth deal with Mark's death and their relationship, County gets two unexpected visitors.
1. Automatic Flowers: The End is Just Begin...

TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter One.  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Mild language, Death..  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER:  ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman, Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's something that sort of came to me. A spin off of a Elizabeth/Dave pairing I have on an RPG.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual source of comfort.  
  
   
  
***  
  
"and Sara thinks she's died here once before.. She's crazy. A pop-book of flowers from grade four is driving her insane. No-one knows why, she sad tonight. No-one can help her find... Crying… Crying… She couldn't afford the view... Crying, crying, these automatic flowers  
  
won't do…"  
  
***  
  
   
  
"Dave.. That is really pathetic. Don't let Kerry catch you putting something like that on the grave.." Haleh warned him kindly as the young man trudged silently across the green grasses. Grasses that were dotted with headstones and bouquets of flowers.  
  
   
  
"They were expensive, Haleh.." He muttered softly as he neared the grave marker, kneeling as he placed the bouquet ontop of the newly turned earth.  
  
   
  
"Dave.." Abby whispered to him kindly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Hon.. Those bouquets are supposed to be for sick people in hospitals.. I don't think little bouquets with plastic stethoscopes and thermometers is really fit for a funeral."  
  
   
  
Tears stung his eyes and he roughly grabbed the basket. Flinging it outwards, watching it hit the ground and bounce into a hedgerow. "N-never mind then.. Figured he'd like it.. Maybe figured he'd want that sorta shit in the afterlife.. I don't know.. I figured.. Hell.. He's a doctor. Little stethoscope. Cool.. But hey.. Malucci's a fucking moron!. Everyone's made that quite clear!" Dave stood shakily, stumbling towards the hedgerow where his little basket was caught in the vines. His gaze turned away from it and to a clump of dandelions, Dave ripping them from the earth, he stomped back to the grave and awkwardly planted the weeds on the fresh grave.  
  
   
  
With a grunt of anger and frustration, he forced himself to his feet and stalked off towards the small rented coupe.  
  
   
  
"Dave!" Luka Kovac called out to the doctor fruitlessly as he exited the church and saw Malucci stumble down the hillside and to the car. "What did you say to him?" He said accusingly, looking at the nurses milling around the front doors.  
  
   
  
"Nothing. He was putting flowers on Mark's grave-" Lydia muttered, embarrassed as Carol interrupted her angrily.  
  
   
  
"They started bugging him about the bouquet he was laying on the grave. Dave flipped out.. I don't know where he's going. You better go after him Luka."  
  
   
  
The older man nodded silently and carefully gauged his way down the hill and to the masses of cars. What ever they'd said to Dave, it had hit hard.. Hopefully he could talk some sense into the man before he did anything stupid.  
  
   
  
*******  
  
   
  
"Elizabeth.. What are you doing here?!" Carol said stunned, as she made the fourth pot of coffee that morning, slipping the pot onto the burner and flipping on the switch. "Are you okay?"  
  
   
  
"I could ask you the same thing, Carol.." She replied thickly to the nurse, turning back slightly to make eye contact from the sea of papers and knick- knacks that spilled from Mark's locker. "I'm here cleaning out his things. Might as well do it now... Frightening being alone at home.. I don't want t- . I couldn't.. Ella's with my mother.. I'm just cleaning out his locker.."  
  
   
  
"Oh.. I came back for the funeral. Doug is out in the ER someplace. I told the desk, I'd make more coffee.. It's pretty dea-" Carol swallowed nervously, breaking off and leaving the sentence hanging. It was quiet out there.. No patients.. It was dead out there... But dead.. It didn't seem like the term to use.. "I just told them I'd make more coffee. Nobody feels like working out there..."  
  
   
  
"No.. Probably not." Elizabeth agreed. "I don't blame them." She trembled slightly, a hand grabbing at the door of the locker to steady herself.  
  
   
  
"Did you want any help? I'll grab a box to put his things into." Carol said helpfully as the surgeon turned on her.  
  
   
  
   
  
"NO! Just go! GO dammit! You weren't here. You weren't here when we needed you! Doug.. His supposed best friend. He wasn't here when Mark was diagnosed.. Didn't come down when he heard.. He didn't come down.. A friend would have come back, a friend would have been here. We got a PHONE CALL! ON OUR ANSWERING MACHINE!" Elizabeth's eyes narrowed to  
  
fiery green slits, red rimmed and full of pain. "M-mark.. He.. He phoned back.. Phoned.. G-got wrong numbers.. Got upset.. Thought you had tricked him. What you did was very disgusting.  
  
Doing that."  
  
   
  
"Elizabeth.. You weren't home.. It's not our fault.. It's not our fault he's died.. I'm sorry Elizabeth.. But it's not." She shook her head and backed out of the lounge, the door swinging shut and leaving the widowed doctor alone yet again.  
  
   
  
"I can't do this Mark.. I can't do this alone.. Why did you do this to me!?" Elizabeth sobbed quietly, picking through his belongings and packing it up.  
  
   
  
   
  
*****  
  
   
  
"Fucking stupid flowers.. Stupid funeral, stupid grave, stupid Greene.." Dave muttered angrily as he stomped through the halls, around the corner and stumbled over a huddled figure against the wall. "CHRIST!" He yelped in fright, his arms outstretched to cushion his fall. "What in the f-" Slowly he raised his head and met eyes with the mother and widow. "Sorry.. I didn't see you.." Dave whispered sadly, as he picked himself off of Elizabeth.  
  
   
  
"Malucci.. You ignorant, stupid, thoughtless pathetic excuse for human life." She spat sadly, roughly shoving the man away. "Get off of me.."  
  
   
  
"Dr.Corday.. I just.. I'm sorry.." He mumbled, ducking his head as he stood.  
  
   
  
"SORRY?!" She screeched at the young doctor, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. "You planted WEEDS on my husband's grave! What are you?! A child!? You're a hurtful bastard." Elizabeth growled, as she hauled off, swung, and punched Dave Malucci.  
  
   
  
******  
  
   
  
"What happened again, Dave?" Luka asked curious, as he stitched up the small lac above Dave's bruised cheek.  
  
   
  
"A patient punched me.."  
  
   
  
"Oh.. Distraught mother?" The doctor prodded, handing Dave the icepack.  
  
   
  
"I.. umm.. no.. Drunk... That's all.. Some drunken bum.."  
  
   
  
"A drunken bum with a three stone diamond wedding ring?" Luka smirked, shaking his head. "Dave.. The cuts on your face.. Did Elizabeth-"  
  
   
  
"Just shut up okay! It's none of your business! A drunk punched me.. Okay?" Dave stormed from the room, the icepack, held clumsily over one eye.  
  
   
  
****  
  
   
  
She'd paced the parking garage.. Walking the dirty asphalt and wondering how she'd ever cope without him. It didn't seem possible.. Carol had done it for months before she'd run back to Doug.. But.. Elizabeth had nobody to run back to.. Nobody.. She was alone.. It didn't seem possible.. A year ago.. Locked the basement with the man... Now she held his old medical journals in a cardboard box, her wedding ring on her right hand.. His daughter.. Home... Their home.. A home she'd now have to sell to make ends meet. "Mark.. Why?" She shuddered, remembering the vivid recounting of Mark's sudden collapse at the front desk.. Aneurysm. Quick.. Painless.. They'd told her. Never felt a thing.. They'd reassured her.. It didn't change the fact that he was gone. Didn't change a thing.  
  
   
  
"Dr.Corday?"  
  
   
  
Elizabeth raised her head, her brow raised at the comical sight. "Dave... I didn't know you smoked.." She said hoarsely as she watched the man hold onto the ice pack with one hand and the cigarette with the other. "Don't you know it's bad for your health?"  
  
   
  
"So is hanging around you, it seems." He muttered back, taking a slow drag and adjusting the bag over his eye.  
  
   
  
"I'm sorry about that Malucci.." Elizabeth sighed, walking towards the man and plucking the cigarette from his fingers. "I was quite out of line.."  
  
   
  
"No.. It's okay.. really.. I flaked out at the church.. Acted like an idiot.. You have every right to punch my lights out." He shrugged and watched as she put out the cigarette on the bottom of her shoe. "I was using that.." Dave sighed.  
  
   
  
"It's not okay. You have every right. You have the right to even charge me with assault.. I shouldn't have-" Elizabeth sniffled and broke off in a flood of tears.  
  
   
  
"Heyy.. Uhh... Hey.. It's okay.. I'm fine.. It's only my eye.. I've had worse.. Trust me.. Dr.Corday?" Dave advanced on her, his hand tentatively outstretched in comfort as he reached for her shoulder. "It was my fault.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry about Dr.Greene."  
  
   
  
A hand clawed blindly at his scrubs, grabbing him as she pulled him close, sobbing into his shirt. "I... I.." Her fingers pulled at the cloth, tugging as she buried her face into his chest, her breaths  
  
hitching with gasping sobs. Nervously Dave groped at her back, clueless as to where to put his hands. Patting at her shoulders anxiously, as he placed a tentative, comforting kiss to the top of her head.  
  
   
  
"D-dave.. I.." Carefully she lifted her head, meeting his eyes as their lips slowly brushed in passing.  
  
   
  
"Whoa..." Dave whispered in disbelief, backing away from the surgeon.. "Dr.C.. That was a little.." He swallowed, shaking his head. "That was weird.. I'm sorry. I gotta go.. Gotta get back to work..  
  
Take care of yourself.. "  
  
   
  
   
  
"Yes Dave... You too.." Elizabeth murmured in reply, watching the resident lope awkwardly from the garage.  
  
  


	2. Automatic Flowers: Superman's Dead

TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter Two.  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Mild language, Death..  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER:  ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman, Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's something that sort of came to me. A spin off of a Elizabeth/Dave pairing I have on an RPG… Except they get paired up in a different way.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual source of comfort.  
  
PREVIOUSLY ON ER: Mark dies of a relapse and the ER gang attended his funeral, stricken with grief from the events, Dave acts out and stomps off.. Elizabeth hears of it, confronts him and punches him in the head. Later she's cooled off and finds him to apologize where she breaks down in tears and while he's reluctantly comforting her, they sorta kiss.  
  
   
  
********  
  
Are you worried that you're not liked? How long til you break? You're happy because you smile, but how much can you fake? An ordinary boy, an ordinary name, but ordinary's just not good enough today. – Our Lady Peace - Superman's Dead.  
  
******Chapter 2****  
  
   
  
Her fingers touched her lips and Elizabeth looked down at the box at her feet. Malucci. Life had been so ordinary awhile ago. A perfect family. Then she started feeling faint and nauseous, and Mark went in for a CAT scan behind her back. Suddenly Elizabeth was pregnant and  
  
Mark had a brain tumour. Life wasn't ordinary any longer and it'd never be the same again.  
  
   
  
At first she tried to keep things together, keeping her professional composure, then things started to fall apart. Elizabeth sighed, tears forming in her eyes as she knelt by the box, a hand sifting through its contents. People had started to look at her strangely, Mark had begun to act erratically and Kerry's unfounded accusations...  
  
   
  
Her unfounded accusations proved to be a true, and Elizabeth was left holding the bag. Her husband was proved incompetent by a trial of testing and the world came crashing down around her. Whispers in the halls, rumours that always came full circle as she sat in the cafeteria and picked at her egg salad. "Ohh.. Dr.Corday.. You're taking this quite well.." They'd sneer, rumours that she was bedding Romano as her husband slowly died of a reoccurrence of cancer.  
  
   
  
Elizabeth stared vacantly into the box and shuddered. Everyone started to walk on eggshells around her, wondering when she'd finally snap, her cheery smiles soon not fooling a single soul. As Mark grew more distant, Elizabeth took more time off, sleeping on the couch with the  
  
baby in her arms, as Mark barricaded himself in their bedroom. His eyes sunken into hollows, and his hair even more of a forgotten wispy memory, he'd deemed himself unworthy of looking at.  
  
   
  
Secretly she guiltily liked it this way, his skin was cast in a yellowish deathly hue and it saddened her to look at him, his already pale and gaunt body that once turned her on, sickened her. His ribs  
  
jutted from his paper skin and his eyes that blinked largely from behind his glasses were bloodshot and glassy. Elizabeth loved him, but she knew even a loving kiss from his papery lips weakened him. She wanted so much to hold him, to caress his frail body and tell him  
  
everything would be okay. It was too late for that.  
  
   
  
Mark had been 'let go' a few months back by this time, but he frequently stumbled down the stairs, half dressed and breathless, yelling that he was late for work. Screaming at her that she let him sleep through his alarm. His dark sickly eyes burning with confused hatred and his thin lips curling with expletives. "Fucking bitch.." Mark would slur over his Corn Pops as he shoveled them over his swollen and pasty tongue, trying to hurry for 'work'.  
  
   
  
It had only happened a few times, and every instance came a worried phone call from Weaver as Mark stumbled around the ER cursing and swearing at the doctors as they tried to convince him that he didn't work there anymore.  
  
   
  
It was different then, it wasn't the snide vengefulness it had been when Mark had first been rediagnosed, Kerry's phone calls were filled with worry and empathy, worry for the man who used to be a competent colleague and empathy for the woman who was his wife. "Elizabeth.. He's here again.." She'd whisper hoarsely from the lounge as she could hear Mark ranting out at the front desk. "I've asked him to leave.. I've told him that Doug wasn't here.. I told him Ross doesn't work  
  
here anymore. He doesn't believe me. Please come get him Elizabeth.. I'm sorry.."  
  
   
  
Each time Elizabeth bundled up their daughter, placed her in the car seat, and drove to County, each time she'd find him finally winding down his tirade, exhausted. Upon seeing her, he'd smile, relieved, and wrap his arms around her. "Le's go home, 'Lisbeth.." Mark would murmur softly, turning as the ER stared at them, and letting her lead him to the car.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
"What are you doing Dave?" Luka had walked up behind the doctor who had been standing in the doorway, staring at Elizabeth.  
  
   
  
"N-nothing.." Malucci had stammered, embarrassed, walking out the doorway and into the stairwell.  
  
   
  
"You were staring at Corday... Why?"  The Croat accused him kindly, his arms crossed and his head cocked slightly.  
  
   
  
"I.. I wasn't staring.." The younger man reddened.. "I was just looking out for car thieves, that's all." He retorted weakly.  
  
   
  
"Uh huh... Malucci, you have lipstick on your collar, you might want to-" Luka was cut off by Dave who shook his head, and started walking up the stairs.  
  
   
  
"No.. It's not.. It's just-" His brow furrowed for a second, and  he shrugged. "Old stain.. I do date you know."  
  
   
  
"I never said it wasn't. All I was going to say is that it'd probably be good if you took it to the cleaners and got the stain out." Luka threw up his hands in defense, following the man up the staircase. "Malucci.. Where are we going?"  
  
   
  
"To find Chen.. I want to do something.." Dave said determinedly as he banged through the doors to the floor in the ER.  
  
   
  
Jing-Mei "Deb" Chen sat engrossed in charts that were piled up on the admit desk, she didn't even lift her head when the two men came barrelling into the ER.  
  
   
  
"Chen, commere for a sec.." He ordered, coaxing her over with a hand. "Just for a second.. Come here.."  
  
   
  
Eyeing the man suspiciously, she rose from her seat and walked to him. "What in the hell do you want Malucci?? Some people around here actually want to get work done, and if you don't want to have Weaver catch you, I'd advise you see some patients."  
  
   
  
"I will.." Dave replied impatiently, "I just want to try something.. That's all.. Then I'll see as many patients as you want me too.. Really.."  
  
   
  
"What is i-" She asked curious as he grabbed her into an embrace and held her close, moving his hands up her back, stroking it. Deb looked at him goggle-eyed as he lifted his head, allowing their lips to brush softly.  
  
   
  
She stared at him in disbelief before breaking away and glaring at him. "What in the hell was that!?"  
  
   
  
"Do you consider that a kiss?? Do you have any sexual feelings towards me?!" Dave said worriedly, a split second before her hand smacked him across the mouth and sent him reeling backwards.  
  
   
  
He put his hand over his face and watched her storm off, his finger dabbing at the welling blood of his split lip. "Is that a yes!?" Dave yelled at her as she slammed the door to the woman's washroom.  
  
   
  
-end of part 2-  
  
  


	3. Automatic Flowers: In the Middle of Yest...

TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter Three  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Mild language, Death..  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER:  ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman, Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's something that sort of came to me. A spin off of a Elizabeth/Dave pairing I have on an RPG… Except they get paired up in a different way.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual source of comfort.  
  
PREVIOUSLY ON ER: In the aftermath of Mark Greene's death, everyone is attempting to cope with the situation. Dave manages to get himself both punched and kissed by Dr.Corday, and in relation to that Chen punches him in the mouth. Carol and Doug return from Seattle for the funeral and cope with being back at County.  
  
   
  
****Chapter 3****  
  
Standing in the middle of yesterday where it all went wrong. Where we made mistakes, I'm sorry for the things I forgot to say. But it won't be long until it will be okay. Well I promised you I would I change. But I'm an asshole and I'm ashamed. I'm upset 'cause I betrayed everything that you gave.-Our Lady Peace - Middle of Yesterday  
  
****************  
  
   
  
"Malucci.. I always knew you had a way with women.." Carol said dryly as she walked from the lounge, a mug in her hand. "It looks like you were hit by a steam roller.."  
  
   
  
Luka stood behind the young Italian doctor and avoided Carol's gaze. "Uhh. Hello, Nurse Hathaway.." He muttered formally, staring at his loafers.  
  
   
  
Carol sighed, stirring the granules of sugar into her coffee. "Hello Dr.Kovac, how are you?" She shot back as Doug walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Dipping her head back, she looked at her husband as he kissed her on the lips. "Hi, hon. This is Doctor Kovac." She smiled painfully as she addressed Dave. "And that mess there is Dr.Malucci, he's having women troubles."  
  
   
  
Dave sighed, licking his wounded lip. "Yeah.. Dr.Dave, nice to meet you.."  
  
   
  
Doug chuckled, shaking his head. "That's okay kid.. I know what you're going through.. I had to go through some real psychos before I found the one.."  
  
   
  
Carol looked at him oddly. "Psychos?? I mean not to speak well of my competition, but some of those ladies were nice, you were just too much of a man-slut to stop bed-hopping, and that tended to scare them off."  
  
   
  
Doug sighed pitifully. "Man slut?" He cocked a brow. "Thanks.. That's a new one Carol.." He said irritably.  
  
   
  
"Oh.. I didn't mean it like that and you know it.. I'm just saying.. You had a thing for the ladies.. It's surprising with all that sex you didn't pick up something more serious than that chlamydia infection a few years ago.." She said accusingly.  
  
   
  
"Whoa! Carol.." He hissed angrily. "Do you mind we don't talk about this in front of, *THEM*??!!"  
  
   
  
"Why?? You embarrassed that you screamed like a girl every time you took a leak in the men's room? Or that just about every nurse or doctor here has caught you in some room or closet with your pants around your ankles. I'm serious Doug. I mean, if we're talking about luck and fate.. It's a wonder that Jeanie got AIDS from her husband and you got away clean.. Doesn't really seem fair in the scheme of things. I mean... What about that epileptic addict you brought in, you didn't even know her name!"  
  
   
  
"At least I didn't go around kissing firemen on rooftops!" Doug yelled back angrily.  
  
   
  
"Naww..." Carol said sarcastically.. "He kissed me Doug.. and some guy kissing me.. That doesn't make up for all the shit you put me through.. You know I had to go to Seattle to get you.. You never came looking for me.. You never came back to me.. I had to go crawling to you. And don't think for a second that those few weekends you came up to see the girls has any bearing on anything. If you'd loved me, you never would have left in the first place!"  
  
   
  
Dave exchanged an uneasy glance from Luka.. "Uhh, man.. Maybe we should go.." He hissed at him as the dueling couple turned and glared at them.  
  
   
  
"NO! STAY!" They yelled in unison. Carol looking back at Doug and giving him one of her patented 'Pissed off European Female' death-stares.  
  
   
  
Dave raised his brows and nodded. "Uhh.. Okay.."  
  
   
  
"You never even kept in real contact with Mark.. If you had, maybe this whole mess would have never happened. Elizabeth accused us of being bad friends.. Maybe we were.. We were too engrossed in our new life, to keep in touch with the old." Carol sighed, tears burning her  
  
eyes and rolling down her cheeks. "We should have been here, Doug.."  
  
   
  
'Been here to do what?' Thought Dave. There was nothing they could have done, Mark was falling to pieces, and none of his friends in the ER could do a thing except watch. It seemed Chief was more rattled about it than anyone. The man she used to belittle and argue with was no longer a formidable foe. His vacant stares and glassy, confused expressions just made her sad and depressed.  
  
   
  
As Doug went in for the jugular, bringing up Tag, Dave wandered off, leaving Luka open-mouthed and unable to escape. It was like watching a lion bear down on an antelope, it was savage, but you couldn't take your eyes off of it. Luka watched Carol and Doug scrap, the open wounds of despair still hanging in the air like a dampness that wouldn't fade. Mark Greene was dead.  
  
   
  
Dave walked down the hall, his head hung, things were strange. He wasn't friends with Mark Greene. He hardly knew the man, never made the effort to. What was the point? There hadn't been one, Mark had never gone out of his way to understand him, so why do the same? He knew bits and pieces.. Being an only child like himself, the dad who had been in the army.. Or was it the navy? Having the two daughters.. He sighed, almost with relief, he didn't have any kids yet, none that he knew of anyway.. His track record had been almost marred by a girl in Queens but the test had turned up negative.. At least that's what she had said.. Dave didn't know the man, and yet why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel so upset over a man he didn't know?  
  
   
  
Wandering aimlessly down the hallway, he stumbled out the side doors and into the alleyway, steam seeped up from the subway below and the tired doctor sunk to his knees on the wet asphalt, the broken crate underneath him, barely keeping his scrubs from getting soaked. It was  
  
less than a week since it had happened. Walking in for his shift, finding one of the docs outside having a cigarette. The man had stared at Malucci for awhile before lifting his head. He looked familiar, one of Mark's colleagues, a friend of his.. Dave knew that for sure, another thing was certain. The guy looked like crap. As the doctor took another shaky drag on the cigarette he flicked it out into the cold black night.  
  
   
  
"What's up?" Dave muttered, somewhat worriedly, as if the guy was going to run out in front of a bus or something... But then, that'd be a cool trauma, and a decent start to a shift, but it was probably best to make sure he didn't do it.  
  
   
  
"Mark Greene's dead.." The doctor muttered gruffly in response, his voice breaking. "I.. I was taking a nap in exam two.. One of the nurses woke me up.. Then E-lizabeth came in.. I dunno man. It was awful.. So sudden.. He had been ranting as usual... Malik and the guys trying to calm him down, trying to get him to go home.. Then he keeled over.. I.. I dunno man.." He hung his head, closing his eyes, red-rimmed and puffy from crying, a few tears seeped out and ran down  
  
his cheeks.  
  
   
  
"Who else knows?? Anyone??!" Dave said alarmed, bent down beside the man.  
  
   
  
"N-no.. It was jus' me on shift.. A few others.. The nurses.. The usual.. Dr.Kovac.. Finch, Weaver.. All off.." He shuddered, wrapping his labcoat tighter around himself and standing. "I'm gonna go in, man.. It's cold out here.."  
  
   
  
Dave nodded. "Yeah.. it is.. Go try to get some sleep.." He said kindly, following up behind the doctor and into the ER. "Dave.. There you are, Greene he jus-" Wendy called out to him as he  
  
walked to the desk. The man shook his head and sighed.  
  
   
  
"I know Wendy.. It's okay.. I know.. Does anyone else?" He said tiredly.  
  
   
  
'They're off.. Went home.. I didn't think that we should-" She stammered, staring at her hands, there was an thickness in the air tonight.. It stunk of death and misery. Dave wrinkled his nose, it was an unpleasant smell that he'd grown accustomed to long ago, but now.. It stank, and he hated it.  
  
   
  
"I'll phone them.. Tell them to come.. Then I'll tell them.. Did you phone Weaver or Romano?" He queried tiredly. Surely she'd done that.. That throbbing pain that had been hiding in the back of his head was slowly returning, and it'd brought friends.  
  
   
  
"No.. I.. I'm sorry, Dr.Malucci.." Wendy said sadly, "I wasn't thinking.. I.. I just saw him fall over.. I.. I screamed and.. I.."  
  
   
  
Dave looked at her, pale and trembling, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to well blood, he muttered. "Go home, Wendy.. Go get some sleep.."  
  
   
  
"What?? Dr.Malucci, my shift.." She bit her lip and stared at the floor. The floor was quite interesting actually.. Pale grey tiles.. Clean too.. Wendy sighed, looking up as Dave repeated himself.  
  
   
  
"I said go home, Wendy.. I'll inform Weaver of your absence." Dave said tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck and focusing on a spot of dirt on the desk. "I'll phone them.. Go to bed."  
  
   
  
"Kovac isn't home.. he's asleep upstairs in OB.." She murmured, walking to the lounge.  
  
   
  
"OB? What???" Dave looked at her confused as she disappeared.  
  
   
  
"His patient went up there.. We stabilized her downstairs.." She said absently, exciting with her coat on. "He went up to check on her.. But his shift ended.. Kovac said he'd sleep until his next shift."  
  
   
  
"Anything else?" He said, picking up the receiver of the phone.  
  
   
  
"No.." Wendy said sadly.  
  
   
  
"Then go.. I'll take care of it.." She looked at him expectantly, before he waved her off with a flick of his hand and Wendy left through the double doors. Dave stared at the phone, picking it up as  
  
Luka appeared behind him.  
  
   
  
"What are you doing Malucci?? Where is Wendy?" He slurred sleepily, rubbing his hair and stretching. "I was sleeping in lounge.. What are you doing?"  
  
   
  
"Greene's dead.." Dave said, his voice thick with pain, quivery and shaking like his hands.. "I.. I just saw.. You know.. That guy.. Tall.. Has a mustache like the oatmeal guy.. But he's young.. You know.." He struggled for the right word and shrugged. "I dunno.. One of Greene's friends.."  
  
   
  
Luka cocked a brow. "Dr.Prentice? Yes.. Where is he now?" The Croat looked around worriedly.. "Maybe he knows more.."  
  
   
  
"He didn't seem to.. I don't know.. He went to sleep somewhere.." Dave said exasperated, his shift had started ten minutes ago and he was already feeling drained.  
  
   
  
"Well we should tell the others.. You use the phone here.. I'll use the phone over there.. Who do you want to start with..." Luka exchanged a knowing look with Dave and nodded. "Jen." They whispered in unison, scanning their fingers down the staff listing and contact numbers.  
  
   
  
****  
  
"Who?? Who are you?? What? What do you mean?? I.. I don't understand.." Jen shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself and staring out into the darkness. Two-thirty in the morning and she was being told her ex-husband might be dead. Slowly, mechanically, she let the phone slide from her fingers, and she hung it up. "RACHEL!!!!" She screamed, panicky like a trapped animal, more of a scream than a yell.. Like a rabbit caught in a trap. It was anguish, it was pain and confusion and she wanted it to stop. "RACHEL!!!!! C-Come down.. W-wake up!!!"  
  
   
  
**  
  
   
  
Luka stared at the phone listening to the dialtone. "She.. She hung up on me.. I.."  
  
   
  
Dave shook his head. "Forget it.. Phone Weaver.."  
  
   
  
"Wh-what do you mean?!" Weaver mumbled sleepily, stumbling out of bed and searching for her robe. "What do you mean?? Greene?? Collapsed? I.. I'll be right there.. Where's Elizabeth.. What do you mean at St.Michael's? What about our hospital?!!" She sighed, as Luka's soothing tones calmed her.. Greene's Oncologist was at the other hospital.. They'd rushed him there.. There wasn't anymore news.. "I'll. I'll be there.. You have to phone Carter and Jing-Mei and everyone.. Yes... Now.. We.. we have to get this sorted."  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
When Weaver made it to County, there already was smattering of colleagues spread around the ER. All pacing, all red eyed and all frazzled and sleep deprived. "PEOPLE!" She yelled above the voices, that chattered nervously. "People listen to me.. Stay here.. Don't move.. Don't go anywhere.. Stay on this floor by the admit desk, treat minors.. Randi, have the majors transferred to Mercy.. Don't do anything.. Okay.. I'm going to check on Greene.. Stay put."  
  
   
  
Dave looked at her. Taking charge.. All of a sudden taking charge.. It was odd. A few minutes ago he was the person telling everyone the news.. He somewhat the hero, the messenger, now he didn't matter.. He watched as everyone crowded around each other. Luka trading hugs with  
  
Abby and Carter and everyone as he sat at the admit desk, finally retreating to the lounge. What was he doing here? Odd man out. Close enough to care, but not close enough to be a part of the grieving. Dave sighed, "I should just go home.. I'm just in the way.." he muttered to himself  looking up to see somebody standing in the doorway. 


	4. Automatic Flowers: The Long Walk

TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter Four  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Mild language, Death..  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER:  ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman, Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's something that sort of came to me. A spin off of a Elizabeth/Dave pairing I have on an RPG… Except they get paired up in a different way.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual source of comfort.  
  
PREVIOUSLY ON ER: Carol and Doug, returned to County for Mark's funeral, have a fight. Dave, after getting kissed by Elizabeth, goes for a walk and relives the night Mark died.  
  
   
  
   
  
****Chapter 4****  
  
   
  
"If you hadn't phoned, it would have been a lot worse. It's good that you phoned Weaver." Carter said leaning on the door frame and moving in and sitting beside him. "We have to sort this out now. It's good that you told everyone now. It's good that you phoned, you did the right thing."  
  
   
  
Malucci hung his head, fixated on his sneakers, one slightly ahead of its mate, he struggled to move his body, but he seemed rooted to that spot. He wanted to look at him, look him in the eye. Instead he fixed his gaze on the chrome handles of the cupboard doors, the sheen of the light hitting it, almost dancing.  
  
   
  
"Dave..." Carter repeated again, slowly getting to his feet and crouching in front of him. "Hey...Malucci.. It's not your fault." He placed a hand on his knee and Dave shrank back, his gaze still fixated on the ground, his eyes averted from his friend's worried expression.  
  
   
  
"All I did was come to work... I just asked him what was wrong.. I just asked a guy what was wrong.. and now.." Dave shuddered, his limbs leaden.  
  
   
  
"Dave... Mark would still be dead, whether you'd asked Dr.Prentice if he was okay or not. The life or death situations, we have no control over. If you hadn't asked him if he was okay, Dr.Greene would still be dead, Malucci. Remember-"  
  
   
  
Chuni stuck her head in the door, her eyes red and swollen. "Carter.. They've sent some people down from psych.. Wh-what do I do?"  
  
   
  
"Be there in a moment, Chuni." Carter replied, looking back at Dave.. "I'll be right back, Malucci.. Will you be okay?" He got to his feet, leaning the edge of the couch to right himself.  
  
   
  
Dave stared at the floor and didn't answer him, maybe if he shut his eyes it'd all go away. John Carter sighed, leaving the lounge, the door slightly ajar as the doctors, nurses and other ER staff congregated in front of the admit desk, sobbing with Mark's family and the counselors. He looked over slightly, Carter comforting Carol and Doug. It was a good thing Carter was here, and not Chief.. Chief, comforting Doug.. That'd be the day.  
  
   
  
"It's good that he didn't suffer.." One of the counselors said to Chen, patting her on the back. "Perhaps God thought it was his time to go." This comment got the collective group to start sniffling again and burst into tears.  
  
   
  
Dave sighed, booting the doorstop out of the lounge door and stomping out of the ER. The group stared at him, parting like the red sea as he stumbled out into the cold airy night. Not knowing where he was going, he blew past Randi and Malik having a cigarette.  
  
   
  
"Where are you going, Dave?!" Randi shouted after him, standing off the milk crate and starting after him when Malik grabbed her hand.  
  
   
  
"Let him go, man.. He'll be okay." Malik said softly.  
  
   
  
Dave stumbled out in the darkness, the air cold and his t-shirt not nearly enough to keep him warm, his nipples stiffening under the shirt and arms coming up in goosebumps. Rubbing his hand over his arms he trudged on, past Kerry and Elizabeth who had gone out for a walk.  
  
   
  
"MALUCCI! You okay!? Come back to the hospital.." Weaver called out to him.  
  
   
  
Dave shook his head and ignored the plaintive calls, even when she stuck her two fingers between her teeth and blew a whistle that could have deafened all the dogs of Chicago.  
  
   
  
He disappeared around the corner, his feet and limbs stiffening from the cold, but the walking motion becoming almost robotic, catatonic. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he had to get there.  
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
"Where'd Malucci go?" Carter said looking at his watch. "Anyone know where he went?"  
  
   
  
Randi looked up from the umpteenth cup of coffee. "No.. Well.. We saw him going for a walk a few hours ago."  
  
   
  
Malik nodded. "Yeah.."  
  
   
  
Carter looked around. "Anybody going to go looking for him?"  
  
   
  
A lot of the staff shrugged their shoulders and looked at each other.  
  
   
  
"Dr.Weaver.. Take Malik with you..." Carter tossed her the keys. "Take my Jeep.. I'll make sure everyone else stays here."  
  
   
  
   
  
***  
  
   
  
The bright lights of Chicago ruined the sunset that started in a creamy pink on the horizon, Dave watched it, shivering, as he pulled his arms into his t-shirt and huddled against the picnic table in the park. The crickets chirped and his breaths came in white clouds as he started to shiver and huddle against the frost covered wood.  
  
   
  
He could hear the rumbling engine in the distance, but was too tired and frozen to move as he sighed, thinking about life, about County and how lucky he was to still be at the hospital after all the crap he'd pulled. There had been rumours of becoming the sacrificial lamb for the Marfan's case but it'd blown over even though slowly, people stopped talking to him in the halls. Only acknowledging them when he said hello. Some even didn't see him when he did that, they chose to ignore him like the rest.  
  
   
  
"MALUCCI!" Weaver yelled from the jeep, zipping up the walking trails and over the frozen grass. They stopped a few feet from the table, Malik and the Chief hopping out and sitting across from him at the picnic table.  
  
   
  
"We've been looking everywhere for you, Dave.." Malik said softly, pulling off his leather jacket and walking to Malucci. "Put this on.. You're gonna freeze your ass off.."  
  
   
  
"You guys already look like you're freezing. Keep your jacket." Dave muttered, shivering, his arms crossed under his t-shirt.  
  
   
  
"Yeah well, the windows were rolled down in Carter's Jeep.. and it doesn't have any heat in it." Weaver muttered, shuffling her feet to keep warm. Damn it was cold outside.  
  
   
  
"Why were the windows rolled down?" Dave shuddered under the jacket which had been draped over his shoulders.  
  
   
  
"Cuz  we were shouting your name, looking for you everywhere.. For an HOUR, Malucci.." Malik muttered.  
  
   
  
"Oooh yeah.. Everybody's really worried about me.. Go to hell." Dave grumbled, as the two of the leaned over the table and looked at each other, "Just fuck off would you? Why in the hell do you care what happens to me? Eh?"  
  
   
  
"We do. Otherwise we wouldn't have come out here looking for you." Weaver said evenly, looking the man in the eye. "Come on get in the jeep would you?"  
  
   
  
"We're a caring buncha people, Dave." Malice replied. "My Mama taught me to be a caring guy, come on man.. My nipples are freezing. There's crazy guys out here this time of night. Looking for young fresh meat like you. You wanna get yourself raped?!"  
  
   
  
Dave shrugged. "I don't care at this point. And neither should you. I don't belong there.. Talking about that guy. I don't know him. I didn't know him at all.. He didn't talk to me. I don't belong there,  
  
crying about some guy who didn't give me the time of day. You should have fired me months ago when you had the chance. You had the perfect timing to make me the scapegoat for that Marfan's case, Chief and you didn't."  He stared off at the horizon, ignoring the two people staring at him.  
  
   
  
"Dave... Come on.. Please.. Get in the jeep.. We're not asking you to hang out or talk or anything, just come in, get out of the cold. Get out of this park.. Get my coat on.." Malik begged, coming around to the side Dave was sitting at and coaxing him into the jacket.. "Come on man, one arm after the other.. That's it.. Come on.. Let's get in the jeep. We'll drive back on the walking trails. Break the law!"  
  
   
  
Dave sighed, at this point, driving a jeep on the bike trails wasn't exactly a thrill. He stood outside the jeep while the two of them brushed the crap off the back seat, finding a place for Dave to sit.  
  
That second where there wasn't a person on either side of him.. He could make a break for it. He could leave.. Not go back. "Dave?" Malik placed a hand on his shoulder and the doctor jumped a bit. "Get in the back, man.. Let's go."  
  
   
  
*****  
  
   
  
"Malucci?" The person stood over the reminiscing doctor in the alleyway, a cigarette clenched between his fingers as Dave put it to his lips and took a long drag. Slowly he looked up as the person standing beside him snatched the cigarette away. "Dave, we need to talk."  
  
   
  
"I don't think there is anything to talk about." He muttered, grabbing his smoke back and taking a drag. His face was starting to ache again, he needed another ice pack.  
  
   
  
"What happened in the parking lot.. It was a mistake." Elizabeth said, sitting down beside him.  
  
   
  
Dave looked at her, and shook his head. "Nothing happened.. Nothing to be sorry about. Nothing to be mistaken about.. You're in the clear and guilt free." He said sarcastically, as he stood, squashing the butt under his sneaker.  
  
   
  
"Dave..." She called out to him, grabbing his arm as he retreated into the building.  
  
   
  
"LOOK! I don't know what you want from me!? I did what I could. I came to the funeral, I paid my respects. I-" He sighed angrily, grabbing her and planting a warm, passionate kiss on her lips, his hand coming up behind her head as he used his other arm to guide her closer into the embrace.  
  
   
  
Their lips parted slightly, their tongues touching, the two bodies stumbling backwards against the wall as Dave kissed her. Closing his mouth he pulled away. Breathing heavily. "There.. Now you have something to feel guilty about!"  
  
   
  
Elizabeth looked at him, startled, her face flushed from the exertion, as she pulled him backwards again and pressed him up against the wall. "You're wrong Dave.. That won't make me feel the least bit guilty." She muttered angrily as she kissed him forcefully on the lips. "This will though." Elizabeth tilted his head back, kissing his neck, his full lips and running her long fingers through his hair. This was wrong, it was very wrong, but she hadn't been with someone in so long... Tears dampened her eyes as she kissed the man, her hand going up his shirt as she peppered his upper body with kisses. "Mmmm.. Mark."  
  
   
  
Dave's eyes widened, and he shoved her away. "Okay.. First of all lady.. I'm not Mark.." He snapped angrily, pulling his shirt back on.  
  
   
  
"I.. I.. Malucci.." She sobbed, her hand over her mouth as she trembled, staring at the ground. "I'm sorry.."  
  
   
  
"Ohhh.. For a second there you were actually calling me Dave.. Or was it Mark.." He snarled, stomping towards the hospital.  
  
   
  
"I.. I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" She called out, falling to the ground, leaning up against the cold brick and erupting into tears. "Mark.. Why did you do this to me!?" 


	5. Automatic Flowers: The Choices We Make

[pic]  
  
TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter Five  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Mild language, Death..  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER:  ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman, Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's something that sort of came to me. A spin off of a Elizabeth/Dave pairing I have on an RPG… Except they get paired up in a different way.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual source of comfort.  
  
   
  
Previously on ER: Dave has flashbacks of the night Mark died, Elizabeth finds him outside where they kiss again, causing more romantic, sexually strained angst.  
  
   
  
******Chapter 5**************  
  
   
  
"Dave wait!!!!" Elizabeth yelled, chasing him down in the halls of County. "Please, Dave.. Please... I.. We need to talk." She swallowed, panting as she leaned up against the wall, Dave a few hundred feet ahead of her. "Please.. Wait.."  
  
   
  
"We don't have anything to talk about. You punched me, we kissed. I kiss Deb, she punches me. You kiss me, call me Mark.. I think everything's perfectly clear.. Don't you!?" He snapped, his chest heaving. What was with this woman?  
  
   
  
"Please... An exam room, my car.. Somewhere private.. I don't want to do it in the halls.." She pleaded, looking around at people who were stopping what they were doing, and staring.  
  
   
  
"Why? So County doesn't know you kissed a total waste of human existence? I mean. I know.. You told me I was a lousy doctor.. You basically told me I was a lousy excuse for a human being. But please.. Please tell me I'm not a lousy kisser. At least let me have that luxury." Dave snarled almost tearfully.  
  
   
  
"No... The kiss was wonderful, Dave.." Elizabeth said quietly, watching as people stared, snickered, giggled, took notes...  
  
   
  
"Oooooooh wowie! Elizabeth Corday says I kiss good! Wow! Now I can die happy!" Dave crowed sarcastically. "I don't need your pity."  
  
   
  
"and I don't need yours, Malucci." Elizabeth snapped angrily. "Just because my husband died, doesn't mean you can go around being nice to me. You never had been up to this point."  
  
   
  
"Who says I'm being, nice? You arrogant, flighty, British bitch!" Dave growled. "All I did was put some fucking flowers on the asshole's grave and you're the one who got in my face. I was just paying respects."  
  
   
  
"PAYING RESPECTS!??" Elizabeth screeched, willing herself to stand there and not lunge at his throat. "You little bastard. You made a mockery of my husband's death, being at his funeral. You didn't know him. You didn't take the time to know him. What gave you the right to be there in the first place!?"  
  
   
  
"Oh and like he took the time to know me?! Everyone just assumes. Everyone just thinks they know Malucci.. You just figure I'm the goof off asshole. Nobody ever took the time to know me. I know none of you would show up at my funeral. Why would you!? You guys all made it clear I wasn't welcome here at County. The only guy around here that even gives me the time of day is Carter, and I haven't talked to that rich bastard in weeks really. Except for "Four Units of O-Neg, Stat!' and that really isn't meaningful conversation. You know?"  
  
   
  
"Well maybe if you didn't make assumptions about people all the time." Elizabeth said resignedly. "We're not as bad as we seem."  
  
   
  
"Oh... and like you haven't made assumptions about me. Except for out in that alley-way there, and getting to know how many fillings I have. Have you tried to get to know me. Or is it just barking at me in the hall? Do you know my middle name? My favourite beer? Where I live?"  
  
   
  
"I..." Elizabeth sighed. "You probably don't know any of that about me." She shot back.  
  
   
  
"Your middle name is Isabelle, after your mother. Your favourite beer is Guinness and you live at 1211 Dupont Drive." Dave said quietly. "I do pay attention. I'm not a total gene pool write-off."  
  
   
  
"Dave... I.." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of this. Mark's death isn't your fault. I'm sorry I've treated you like it was."  
  
   
  
"What? You've been blaming me!? How in the hell is it my fault!?" He bellowed angrily. What in the fuck was this woman's problem?!  
  
   
  
"I.. I said I was sorry.. That it wasn't your fault.. W-why can't we just drop it?" Elizabeth said tearfully, her hands starting to shake.  
  
   
  
"NO.. Tell me.. Why is Mark's death my fault??" Dave said quietly. The hall was filled with people now.. Getting their soap-opera drama fix for the day. He winced, wondering if there'd be sappy violin music playing any second now.  
  
   
  
"You were always testing him.. Testing his patience.. Getting him stressed out after his first surgery. He was always a little on edge.. You made him more so.. That's all." She sighed.  
  
   
  
"I made him testy!? Are you fucking kidding me!? The guy was fucking bonkers by the end, lady.. He used to get testy over the fact that the tongue depressors were put in the containers the wrong way. He made himself testy, he was always wound waaay too tightly even before the  
  
tumour. So if he got a little more aggravated, that's not my fault. He was like that. Dr.Greene was always like that. How could I have changed the fact that he got pissed when Carter'd drink the last Coke and blame me?" Dave sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair.  
  
   
  
"I... I told you.. I said it wasn't your fault. I was just looking for someone to blame.. It's nobody's fault, Dave." Elizabeth said tiredly.  
  
   
  
"Ohh, and as far as it goes for me causing shit.. Apparently that Doug Ross guy caused a lot of it, when he worked here... Punching out Dad's, fucking nurses in the closets. How come he got away with shit like that, and I can't?? Because I wasn't Greene's best buddy? Doesn't sound like they were best buddies.. I mean he didn't even come around when Greene was first diagnosed. Sounds like a great friend." Dave muttered sarcastically. People were pulling up chairs now, bringing out bags of microwave popcorn.  
  
   
  
"You shut up! You don't know anything about Doug Ross. There is a reason he's not working here anymore. He did pull one too many stunts.. He outlived his chances for redemption." Elizabeth said angrily. This was getting to be too much. She didn't want to be discussing this in the halls. "If we could just go and talk somewhere else.."  
  
   
  
"NO! I know what the guy did.. Sounds pretty stupid to me.. Giving the PCA codes to the mother. I mean that's pretty dumb. The kid was gonna die anyway.. Why put your ass out on the line for a few less hours of suffering. I mean the kid was toast." Dave snapped. This woman was  
  
unbelievable.  
  
   
  
"That's why Doug Ross was a good doctor, and you're not, Malucci.. You have to think about the patients.. Not the score card. Ricky was suffering needlessly. He was dying, and his mum upped the medication so he wasn't feeling any pain. Joi just upped the dosage." Elizabeth said quietly, people stared, some with teary expressions. She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She wouldn't cry in front of all these people.  
  
   
  
"She killed her son, and Ross helped her. It would have been easier on everybody if he'd just handed her a pillow. No fault on his part. She had the choice of putting it under his head to ease his breathing, or over his face to end it all." Dave grunted.  
  
   
  
"Joi had a choice. She had the codes. She didn't have to use them. We all make choices, Malucci. You made a choice to fuck the paramedic in the ambulance, you made a choice in that trauma room with the Marfan's case. Ross paid dearly for her choice, and you're still standing here. How fair is that?" 


	6. Automatic Flowers: Shooting the Hairdres...

TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter Six  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Mild language, Death..  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman,  
  
Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in  
  
association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This IS a spin off of an Elizabeth/Dave pairing I have  
  
on an  
  
RPG.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual  
  
source of comfort.  
  
PREVIOUSLY ON ER: Dave and Elizabeth have another huge angsty/sexual  
  
tension fueled fight:  
  
Dave accuses Elizabeth and the ER of not knowing anything about him  
  
and doing it on purpose. Elizabeth challenges Dave, and says he  
  
doesn't know anything about her. As he proves her wrong, Dave retorts  
  
that Doug got what was coming to him, that he didn't have to get  
  
involved in Ricky Abbot's euthanasia. To which Elizabeth replies: "Joi  
  
had a choice. She had the codes. She didn't have to use them. We all  
  
make choices, Malucci. You made a choice to fuck the paramedic in the  
  
ambulance, you made a choice in that trauma room with the Marfan's  
  
case. Ross paid dearly for her choice, and you're still standing here.  
  
How fair is that?"  
  
  
  
****Chapter Six: "Shooting the Hairdresser."******  
  
  
  
"It's not fair..." Rachel sat staring out the window of the hospital, the hand on her shoulder as the tears slipped down her cheeks. "I-I killed him you know... It was my fault... I put so much stress on him. It's all my fault.."  
  
Susan sighed, the hand she had on Rachel's shoulder, squeezing it slightly before she pulled the girl into a hug. "No... It's not your fault honey. You didn't do anything wrong. He loved you very much. He knew that you loved him. That's what counts." That's all that mattered. The love of Elizabeth and Rachel... and the little baby daughter he left behind and that would never remember him. I don't matter anymore... Not anymore. Not since... Not since the train station. Susan thought to herself as she held the young woman in the close embrace. Rach' had been such a cute kid. Then she'd matured into a young woman, Mark and Elizabeth had a lot on their plates. Ella was born and then... Susan sighed. Mark had been very happy with Elizabeth. It was her own fault that nothing had ever come of their own relationship.  
  
They'd played around and teased each other for years. Probably he had toyed with the idea as well, but as it was, he was with Jen. Nothing could be done about that. Then Jen ran off with another man. Why hadn't she taken her chance then? Why had she kept it bottled up and waited for Mark to make the first move? It was stupid to do that. Mark had blurted it out on the steps of the fucking train station for crying out loud! It was too late by then. Too late. It would have been  
  
good.. It would have been perfect, if Mark had gotten his act together before that. If Mark had said those words sooner, they'd be a family instead of a bunch of strangers and estranged relatives.  
  
Susan ducked her head, squeezing Rachel tighter as they stared out the window, the rain falling softly and sticking lazily against the window pane. If we hadn't been so stupid. Suzie would be here. Rachel would be here. I'd have two daughters and I'd be mourning my husband. The woman shuddered slightly, a fresh flow of tears suddenly seeping from her eyes and rushing down her cheeks like an overflow from a dam. Instead I'm alone and I'm mourning an old friend.  
  
Susan had overheard the screaming match between Dave and Elizabeth. In fact the whole ER had overheard it. Some even had pictures. Rumours were abound. Mostly started by the nursing staff. Chuni had asked her earlier to put into the pot whether Dave and Elizabeth were sleeping  
  
together. Susan had shook her head politely and headed into the lounge. What she hadn't expected was to find Rachel asleep on the couch with her father's scarf tucked under her head like a pillow. The girl should have been in school. Not that it mattered now. It was a time for grieving.  
  
The ER was a family. Family stuck together, Rachel had been part of that family since... Susan smiled softly. Since forever, it seemed. The little precocious three year old, the little spindly legs with Band-Aids on both knees, swinging back and forth on a gurney as her Daddy made a balloon animal out of a rubber glove. Laughing and clapping her little dimpled hands as Daddy batted it into the air over her head. Her big brown eyes widening as it fell into her arms and she smiled. "Turkey!" She squealed with a big grin.  
  
Mark laughed, grabbing his daughter under the arms and swinging her into the air. "That's right. You're a big turkey!"  
  
The child smiled, shaking her head adamantly and poking herself in the chest with a pudgy little finger. "Daddy's little girl!" She said with conviction, her face set with a seriousness that caused her father to chuckle.  
  
"Yeah.. That's right kiddo. You're Daddy's little girl."  
  
***  
  
Susan stared at the young woman curled up on the couch, tears glistening in her eyes. Ella would never have that with her Daddy. She'd never be a Daddy's girl. Maybe Elizabeth would remarry someday, but... She'd never be Mark's little girl. She'd only ever know Mark from photos, videos maybe. Ella would never really know her father. Know how kind he could be. How silly he could be on a pair of skates, or where he got his ugly hats. How serious he was in a crisis. She'd never know Mark Greene - the man. She'd only know Mark Greene â€" The Phantom.  
  
Susan realized that Ella would never know the Greene family. Mark was an only child. His parents were dead. Perhaps he had aunts somewhere, but... Ella would have to rely on the ER family to know the man her father was. She would have to rely on her mother, her grandmother to  
  
know the man her grandfather was. The war stories. Perhaps Elizabeth would rock her in a chair that David Greene had made and tell the little girl about her grandfather.  
  
****  
  
As Rachel and Susan stared out at the Chicago landscape, Carol crept up on them softly, watching the two hold onto each other for dear life. "Susan?"  
  
It was another relationship that had gone to pot after she'd left on the train bound for Phoenix. The two had been inseparable, spending the warm days on their breaks sunning themselves on County General's heli-pad. The nights spent with Carol weeping in Susan's arms when Doug had decided to be a colossal asshole once again. Time in the lounge spent griping over dating, patients, and over life in general.  
  
It was something that Susan missed dearly and something that Carol craved after Susan had departed. A close female friend. A close friend, period. After Susan left, there wasn't anybody. Not really. There was Mark... Mark had been there when Doug had left, when the pregnancy tests came up positive, when the babies had been born. She'd tried having a friendship with Luka... But that... That had ended... Carol winced. Terribly.  
  
Susan gave Rachel a little squeeze and looked up. Her eyes red and swollen, she wiped away the stickiness with a shaky hand. "Hey, Carol." She murmured with a weak smile. "Long time no see."  
  
Carol chuckled. "Yeah. You could say that I guess... It's been awhile. How have you been?" The woman in front of her definitely looked older. Tired, worn out. Carol smiled faintly, what had Susan done to her hair?! It looked awful. Forget about shooting the messenger, shoot the hairdresser. Carol had seen her at the funeral, stuffed in a middle pew, against the windows. Sitting alone. Her head bowed, the silly wisps of hair falling into eyes that had clouded with tears.  
  
She'd wondered who'd contacted her, wondering if it had been Elizabeth.  
  
Elizabeth had phoned Doug. But... That was different. Carol and Doug... We were his close friends... We were his friends. Carol had reminded herself. Susan...  
  
What WAS Susan? It had been clear to both of them that Susan and Mark had enough sexual tension to make their own 'forbidden love' porn on the Playboy channel, with interesting uses for tongue depressors and stethoscopes. The giggling and constant staring between them was enough to make the rest of the ER nuts. It was Randi that had finally gotten sick of it.  
  
"That's it.. I'm dragging BOTH of them into an empty exam room with a box of condoms." She'd announced as the two had loped off miserably from the admit desk after both of them had unsuccessful attempts at asking each other out. "What is WITH those two?"  
  
"Randi.. You are doing no such thing." Kerry growled, get back to work. She too even had to admit. This was quite pathetic... If they'd just get it over with and have sex, then she could run a decent ER. But no. Instead she had to watch them bounce around like nervous tenth graders. But the rules were simple. If Kerry Weaver wasn't gettin' any. Neither was anybody else!  
  
****  
  
"What have I been up to?" Susan said, repeating the question. "Oh... I don't know. Things... Chloe has custody of Suzie. They moved to Portland." She sighed, letting go of Rachel who slumped to the chair and stared fixedly at her feet.  
  
"You're still in Phoenix though... Right? I sent you pictures of the girls a few months back." Carol said with a sad smile. "You're doing okay, right?"  
  
Susan shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself like a self-made hug. "I guess so. As good as I can be. I have my own little practice in Phoenix. With a Doctor Heather Fielding. She sort of reminds me of you actually..." She replied with a chuckle. "Yeah.. If you ever got into med school. It would have been cool. You and me.. Our own little practice."  
  
Carol nodded. "Yeah... That would have been neat. Weren't you at one of the ERs in Phoenix though?" It was scary. Knowing they'd lost touch this much. Of course, when Susan had first left, the letters and e-mails had been plenty, but then real life got in the way, and the only thing she mailed off every once in awhile was pictures of the girls.  
  
Susan winced. "Was... It didn't work out. I like where I am now. It's nice. It's a good place Carol."  
  
Carol stared at her, "Better than here?"  
  
"There wasn't anything here for me. You tell me Carol. Is Seattle better than here?" Susan snapped back.  
  
"I.. I mean." She sighed. "I don't know what I mean. Yes.. I like Seattle. I missed here though. I missed what it used to be. I missed us all together. All being a family. The CG Fab Four. That doesn't exist anymore." Carol shrugged. "It's not the same. Peter left too.. He had a custody battle with his son. He told Romano to stuff it and he left. He's been around though. Cleo and him are getting married. Times are a'changing."  
  
Susan nodded, wrapping a comforting arm around Rachel who had stopped crying and was now flipping through a ten-year old copy of PEOPLE. "Who's Cleo?"  
  
Carol snorted. "Long story. She was a pedes doctor in the ER... He started banging her silly a few weeks after she showed up. Romance bloomed."  
  
Susan bit her lip thoughtfully. "They go to the Jazz club?"  
  
Rachel's eyes widened as Carol stifled a giggle. "SUSAN! Not in front of the kid."  
  
Rachel rolled her eyes, sitting back in the chair with her arms crossed and a determined pout. "Come on guys.. What happens after the Jazz club!?"  
  
Susan and Carol exchanged knowing looks and rolled their eyes. "We all know what happens after the Jazz club." They said in unison, breaking off into laughter.  
  
***  
  
Carter had been signing off another chart when he heard the laughter down the hall. It was odd. It had been a long time since he'd heard something like that. Even Malik's boom-box had disappeared. Since Mark had died it was like a perpetual day of mourning. No laughter, no  
  
music.. No sound of any kind, except for the constant barrage of traumas that seemed to tackle them lately.  
  
Sticking the chart in the rack, he put his pen in his lab coat pocket and went to investigate.  
  
***  
  
"I heard about Carter.." Susan said carefully, sitting herself down beside Rachel as Carol pulled up a chair. "That must have been awful. How's he doing? He was such a cute kid."  
  
Carol smiled uneasily. "It was hard. Losing somebody like that. We've all lost patients before, but Lucy.. As annoying as she could be at times, she was still one of us. She was part of County. I wasn't working when it happened, when they were brought into trauma, but..." She sighed. "Carter took it pretty hard. Blamed himself." Her eyes dropped to her lap and she looked at Rachel who had sighed noisily.  
  
"You know you don't have to censor yourself around me. I'm not three anymore!" Rachel snorted. "I DO know about Carter. When you hang around the nurse's station enough, you pick up a lot. I mean Carter's an addict... It's not like he's some serial rapist or murderer or something. Give me a little credit."  
  
Susan looked at Rachel with a tinge of surprise and disbelief. "What's she talking about? Carter?" Carol winced, meeting Susan's gaze.  
  
"I.. Carter-He.. After the attack, he started shooting up and taking meds." Carol admitted softly as the man in question walked up the hall behind her, a nervous half-smile on his perfect lips.  
  
"Hey guys.. Hey Rach'... What's up?" He chewed his bottom lip and pulled out his pen again, clicking the top rapidly as he watched them stare at him open mouthed. "What?"  
  
Susan sighed. "Carter.. I'm so sorry.. I didn't know." His eyes narrowed and the pen he'd been clenching in his fist dropped to the floor.  
  
"Oh.. Here I was thinking you were catching up on old times. You were just talking about me behind my back. Thanks a lot." Carter said angrily, stomping off and banging through the double doors and down another corridor.  
  
"CARTER!!" Susan yelled after him, with little success. "Shit.." She swore softly under her breath and clenched her hands together. "Shit... Fucking hell... First Mark... Now this!" Standing suddenly, she brushed herself off and straightened her blouse. "I'm sorry.. I'm going to go. It was great seeing you again, Carol." She smiled at Rachel and pulled the girl into a brief hug. "Good to see you again, kiddo. Take care."  
  
Carol smiled sadly and nodded. "You too Susan..." This was harder than she'd thought. For a second there. For a brief second, it had been like old times. Now reality came rushing back and they were smack dab in the middle of real life again.  
  
Susan Lewis nodded, staring at her hands. "Can I ask you something though, Carol? I mean... Is he better now? He got help? I-I mean he wouldn't be allowed to work here if he wasn't getting help. If he wasn't better. So he's okay now?" She said worriedly, the image of the young med-student Carter still firmly implanted in her head. Not the angry man that had stormed down the hallway. The kid with the nervous grin and the mop of hair. The young kid with the crush on the old doctor.  
  
  
  
"He's getting better. He's going to meetings... He was seeing Abby for awhile." Carol mused with a sad smile. Apparently Luka was dating Abby now.. They were happy. Or that's what Chuni's opinion had been on the matter. That they seemed happy together.  
  
"Abby? Who's Abby?!" Susan cocked a brow, her hands on her hips now and her interest piqued.  
  
"Well. She was an OB nurse upstairs.. She..." Carol trailed off. Knowing it was in the gossip mill, but that Carter and Abby's reasons for spending so much time together was technically confidential. "She helped deliver my babies. Luka and her have been dating on and off for a while now. She'd found Carter shooting up in one of the trauma rooms. Then they dated for awhile and well.. That's pretty much what I know."  
  
Susan nodded. "I've seen that Luka around... He's not bad looking." Carol threw her a dirty look and helped Rachel to her feet. "Rach', you need a lift home at all?" She murmured, brushing her blonde locks out of her face and looking at Carol. She sure had a sore spot as far as Luka was concerned.  
  
"That'd be nice.." Rachel replied softly, bending down to pick up her school bag. "I know Elizabeth went home earlier.. To lay down or something. Ella.. I think she's upstairs in daycare." The girl said absently.  
  
"I can pick her up and drop her off later. It's no problem." Carol said helpfully. "Doug was going to hang around for a bit, but I'm sure I can convince him to come with me to drop by and see your Mom."  
  
Rachel's face clouded. "She's not my mother." She grunted angrily, stepping up beside Susan and keeping in stride with her, her head turned and she looked at Carol. "She's not."  
  
"Honey.. I didn't mean.." Carol started, but Susan was already ushering the teen out the door.  
  
"I'll get Ella.." She called after them, but the ambulance bay doors had already slid shut and swallowed them whole.  
  
Mark and Elizabeth... Married. Carol had thought the relationship was cute at first. A lot better than his past conquests. Amanda Lee.. Cynthia Hooper? She shuddered. Yeah Mark had a real way with women. But it seemed he'd picked a real winner with Elizabeth Corday. The woman was abrasive as hell when she wanted to be. But she was a good mother, and a good woman, and she could see that Mark's death was killing her. If Doug died... Carol shook her head, letting the thought float out of her mind. It wasn't good to be thinking thoughts like that.  
  
***  
  
Dave stood on the bridge, the cold rainy air whipping at him like a cruel slap. So life sucked. Life really sucked. He had his health. But what else did he have? Friendship? Love? Anybody to give a flying fuck? He snorted angrily. Fuck that. It was stupid, coming to Chicago. The Windy City. It sucked here.  
  
Dave sucked in an icy breath and looked at the lights dancing on the water. New York was nicer. Good pizza. New York was home. It'd be nice to go back. But there was nothing to go back to. No family. None that would talk to him anyway. He'd made himself a mockery at County General. He'd basically screwed himself out of two states.. There was 48 left to go.. He could go someplace else. Start over. Start fresh. No. NO. It'd happen again. Like it happened in New York.  
  
Like it happened here. Dave looked out at the ink black night, his hands gripping the frozen metal railing, tightly till his knuckles whitened and his fingers throbbed. His legs shaking like mad, his eyes narrowed as the fiery pain in his gut intensified and he let out a squall of pain, emotion and tears. The yell echoed over the waters, the cry of a wounded animal with no more hope, as his hand slipped into his pocket and closed in around the gun in his coat. 


	7. Automatic Flowers: Old Friends, New Enem...

TITLE: Automatic Flowers. Chapter Seven  
  
AUTHOR: Sadieclay  
  
EMAIL: sadieclay@hotmail.com  
  
CATEGORY: Angst/Cast  
  
RATING: R- Filthy language, Death.. Sex, Drugs and Rock'n'Roll  
  
SPOILERS: References to Season 7-8, etc.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask  
  
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters is owned by John Wells, Jack Orman,  
  
Michael Crichton, Constant C Productions and Amblin Television in  
  
association with Warner Bros. Television.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This IS a spin off of an Elizabeth/Dave  
  
pairing I have on an RPG. This season is basically used in reference.  
  
However: Susan never came back to work at County. Doug and Carol are  
  
happily married in Seattle, Peter quit to be with Reese and is engaged  
  
to Cleo. Carter was stabbed, Lucy's dead.. etc.  
  
SUMMARY: The tragedy of Mark's death sends Elizabeth to an unusual  
  
source of comfort.  
  
PREVIOUSLY ON ER: Dave and Elizabeth have a huge fight, doubting his  
  
skills as a doctor and a competant human being. Rachel, Susan and  
  
Carol bond over Mark's death, coming to terms with the fact that  
  
they've grown apart. They talk about Carter and he overhears it and  
  
stomps out. Meanwhile Dave's found himself on a bridge with a gun in  
  
his hand and freezing his ass off.  
  
***********  
  
I dream about how it's going to end,  
  
Approaching me quickly.  
  
Leaving a life of fear,  
  
I only want my mind to be clear.  
  
***********  
  
  
  
****Chapter Seven****  
  
"Anybody seen Malucci?" Kerry barked, holding the charts out in front of her. He was probably sleeping in an exam room. He had charts to sign off on. He had patients to see. She sighed. Life had really turned upside down since Greene passed away. But at least something had stayed constant. "MALUCCI!" She bellowed.  
  
The air had been full of tension after Greene had finally been let go. But he was still around. Showing up and filling his former colleagues with dread as he stumbled around the hospital cursing at them because they kept trying to explain. Trying to tell him. "You don't work here  
  
anymore Mark."  
  
But this was different now. It was empty.. A void sort of hung in the air like something was missing that they'd never get back. Kerry admitted, Greene never was one of her favourite people, but as she had watched him deteriorate so rapidly. Slurring his words like a common drunk, one side of his face slack from paralysis. He wasn't Mark Greene anymore. He had become the tumour that was eating him from the inside - out.  
  
"Dammit!" Weaver yelled again, slamming the charts down. "Hasn't anyone seen Malucci!?" Granted. The man only had a half an hour left on his shift, and the place was veritably dead. He the only one with patients *still* on the board, she could let him off this once and give the patients to Chen. But... It wasn't right, skiving off like this.  
  
Randi looked up from her Vogue and sighed. "He said he was going home. He felt sick." The clerk returned to her magazine as the Chief stormed over and ripped it from her hands.  
  
"How long ago, Randi!?" She said evenly. Her fingers clenched around the glossy wad of paper in her fist.  
  
"I dunno.. A few minutes ago.. Half-an-hour, tops." Randi said somewhat irritably, looking at Weaver rumpling her magazine. She hadn't paid for that, thank you very much. So what if the sign said BUY BEFORE YOU READ in the gift shop. It said nothing against borrowing it, reading it and putting it back afterwards, but if it came back looking like that... She sighed. She'd just leave it for Frank. He said he only looked at the bikini models, but she knew he was reading the articles.  
  
"Tell Dr. Kovac that I'm going out for a minute." Kerry grunted, crutching to the lounge and getting her coat. "Did he take his bike?" She mused, returning as she buttoned it, standing at the admit desk.  
  
Randi looked up out the doors of the ambulance bay, Dave's bike still leaning up against the bike rack. "Uhh no... Doesn't look like it. Maybe there's something wrong with it. Where are you going?"  
  
Kerry limped hurriedly from the hospital, yelling back over her shoulder as she pulled her coat tighter. "To find Malucci."  
  
****  
  
"Carter, I'm sorry." Susan said in a hushed tone that was reserved for the elderly, infants, and old med students you accidentally hurt the feelings of. "I was just asking about you.. Asking how you were. That's all."  
  
Carter hung onto the railing that snaked the perimeter of the roof. His breaths puffed in clouds as the night settled in, the world still damp from the rain shower that had wetted it earlier. "So you think you know everything do you?" He spat angrily, his sweet face contorted in pain and rage and betrayal. "Did they tell you about my vacation?"  
  
"Vacation? Carter... I-" Susan said startled as the man whipped around and glared at her.  
  
"Oh.. Left that little bit out did they? They sent me into detox. Sent me away. Cornered me in the lounge. Dragged me into Mark's van. I punched Dr. Benton." Carter mumbled sullenly.  
  
Susan's eyes grew as round as saucers. "You punched Peter and you still have all your teeth?!" She fought the grin back and sighed. "Carter, I'm sorry."  
  
"Hey, it's not *your* fault. I just don't like people talking about me behind my back. That's all." He muttered, his tension easing, his muscles loosening. Relaxing. Susan wasn't the enemy here.  
  
"That's understandable." Susan agreed. "Do you know anything about that fight between Elizabeth and Dr. Malucci?" She said curiously, changing the subject.  
  
"Fight? You mean the screaming match they had in the hall? Or when she punched him, or when they were making out in the alley?" Carter said with a slight bitter smirk. "I don't know what's going on there. I prefer not to think about it."  
  
"Elizabeth KISSED Malucci!?" Susan squeaked in disbelief, before regaining her composure. Sure the guy was good-looking and all but, the woman was a widow! "I-I mean.. She punched Malucci? Any idea why?" From what the gossip was around the County, it looked like just  
  
about everybody wanted to smack Dave upside the head. The two of them pulled up wet milk crates and straddled them like jockeys at a horse race as Carter shrugged.  
  
"I only can tell you what the nurses told me. He had some basket of flowers to put on Greene's grave and when Haleh asked him about it, he went a little nuts and started planting dandelions in the earth ontop. The guy hasn't been right since Mark died. I don't know what's up."  
  
"He found out first, didn't he? I mean, that's what I heard. Him and Kovac had to phone everyone." Susan said quietly, staring down at her hands, chapped and red from the cold. Her fingers picking idly at a hangnail as Carter stared off out into the darkness.  
  
"Yeah. That night was pretty crazy. He just sort of-" He grunted, shaking his head. "Malucci has always been a bit of a pain in the ass. He nearly got himself fired a few months ago. But he did take charge that night. It hit him hard, the news. It hit all of us hard. It wasn't right, him running off like that. We didn't need that. Not that night, not when we were dealing with everything else. Somebody had died that night and he's off feeling sorry for himself." Carter said bitterly.  
  
"Carter!" Susan whispered, startled. "He's a colleague. I thought he was your friend." The silence between the two had grown, a vast expanse of dead air as Carter slowly let the air leak out between his front teeth like the air out of a balloon.  
  
"He is. But.. Just… We had too much other shit to deal with. It just made things worse, him running off like that. I tried talking to him, but he wouldn't talk. I tried to be a friend with him,  
  
he's not the easiest person to be friends with, you know." Carter sighed as he caught Susan gazing at him sadly. "What?"  
  
"From what I heard, you didn't exactly make it easy for people to be friends with you lately either." Susan scolded kindly. "In fact you made it pretty damned hard. I'd give him a chance if I were you."  
  
***  
  
"Elizabeth?" Peter stared at the woman on his doorstep, Reese in his arms and Cleo yelling at him from the kitchen.  
  
"Peter who is it!?"  
  
Elizabeth stared her gloved hands. Her feet hurt, she'd walked here from County. Well no.. That wasn't entirely true, she walked around most of downtown Chicago, then came here. Her feet really hurt, and she was cold. "Peter," she mumbled in a small, tear-filled voice. "Can I come in?"  
  
Peter looked back over his shoulder, putting Reese down, and grabbing his coat off the back of the door. "No, it's not a good time. Here, we'll go for a walk." He muttered quietly, shooing the child off the step and tucking his head in the door as he shut it. "I'm going out for a bit, Cleo. I'll be back." Peter yelled into the house, as he shut the door and took Elizabeth's arm.  
  
He looked down at the sodden mess that was Elizabeth Corday, her face streaked with tears, her hair a frizzy, wet mess from the rain, and her clothes dripping. "We're taking my car, don't be offended if I lay down newspaper first," he said with a slight smile, wrapping a comforting arm around her as they walked to the vehicle.  
  
*****  
  
"Malucci, what are you doing?" Kerry said, slightly out of breath. Her voice filled with concern and a tinge of irritability. How dare he skip off work to go stargazing. Except… Her eyes took in his  
  
stance, the huddled appearance, the loping gait as he'd shuffled down the bridge and turned to look at her. His eyes vacant and full of hate. Something was wrong. "Dave? Is everything alright?"  
  
His eyes narrowed, wiping the tears away roughly as he pulled the gun from his pocket by a shaking hand. "Does it look like everything's okay? Would I be holding this if things were okay?"  
  
Kerry stared at the piece. A semi-automatic. The gun Dave had gotten from a gang banger. A simple transaction: 50 dollars for the gun. Money that Dave had gotten back when the guy had coded on the table, and a free gun in his coat pocket beside the wilting flower basket from Mark's funeral, in his locker. Elizabeth's words still echoing in his head. "Dave, give me the gun." She said evenly as she could manage, staring at the thing in his hand, gleaming in the streetlights.  
  
He dropped his hand at his side, the gun now a part of him, an extension. "I thought there was something... I thought... She doesn't like me.. After all this... All this shit. She still hates my guts.  
  
Dr. Corday blames me for Dr. Greene's death," Dave muttered, spitting over the side.  
  
Squeezing the crutch tightly for support, trying to keep her voice steady. Slowly Kerry reached out with her free hand, attempting to keep her tone stern, but kind.. "Please give me the gun, Dave. It's OK. It'll be fine. Just hand it over."  
  
"It won't Chief.. It won't be fine.. It won't be okay... We kissed.. Did you know that? More than once.. and it was nice. It was really nice. She even agreed, she said it was nice. Then she started in on me.. In front of everyone. Everybody, Chief.. Right there." Dave backed away from her, the abrupt movement causing the cold metal railing of the bridge bite painfully into his spine. As the woman reached for the gun, he shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you. You shouldn't be here. Get out of here. Get away." He said his voice rising in pitch, panicked and tremulous as he started to shake. "Get out of here, Chief. This doesn't have anything to do with you."  
  
"It doesn't, eh? Then why did you show me? Why did you choose to do it on the bridge here, in public." Kerry said, her voice soft, her eyes fixed on the gun that vibrated slightly in his grip.  
  
"J-just g-get away, Chief.." Dave murmured, "I'm telling you.. You should have fired me.. You should have gotten rid of me. You would have been better off. You all would have been better off."  
  
She watched his hand twitch on the grip, his shoulders slumped in defeat, this was more than Mark Greene, this was everything. The boy had the world on his back and it was crushing him. "What if I told you, Romano wanted me to fire you. Romano wanted a scape goat for the  
  
Marfan's case. But I wouldn't do it, I couldn't. I'm the one who forgot my pager in Magoo's. I'm the one who fucked up, Malucci.. Not you," Kerry admitted, staring at the gun.  
  
The panicked look in his eyes hardened. "Then you admit it. You're not infallible. You make mistakes like the rest of us. You admit it, I fucked up. You all think I'm a fuck up." Dave said, meeting her gaze.  
  
"Yes... I mean no... I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of this Dave," she murmured sadly, reaching for the gun again. Her leg was starting to stiffen up in the damp air and her body counted on every last ounce of her strength as she launched herself at the resident, grabbing at the gun. "Please, Dave.. Give me the gun."  
  
"NO! Let go! Le-" Dave screamed angrily, caught off-guard as the two tumbled to the street, the bodies meshing as one, both hands on the gun as it went off.  
  
***  
  
"I'm sorry about Mark, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral, Elizabeth.." Peter said quietly as they drove, the only sound was the soft swish of the windshield wipers that were smearing the rain in wet streaks. He cursed. "Dammit.. I need new wipers."  
  
Elizabeth chuckled sadly. "You were never much for maintenance. Want to stop into a hardware store?" The rain was coming down harder, making the world into a blurred mess. Peter cursed and nodded as they turned down another street. "It's okay. I know you've been busy," she  
  
replied softly as she stared out the window.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. We're still friends. Right?" Peter queried, pulling into the parking lot. "I could have helped you with Ella, with Rachel, given you a place to stay when he was hospitalized after the second surgery."  
  
She shook her head adamantly. "No, Peter. You couldn't have. You have your own family to deal with. You have Cleo, Reese. You don't have time for me. I'm not your girlfriend anymore, I'm not your responsibility or your priority. I thank you for your concern though." Elizabeth said as she got out of the car.  
  
  
  
****  
  
"What would you know about it?! You've been gone for over five years Susan. A lot can happen in five years. Things can change. People can change. I'm not the same person I was five years ago." Carter said with a tinge of anger.  
  
"I'm sorry for that Carter." Susan remarked sadly, "I'm sorry what happened to you changed you for the worst. I'm sorry that his hospital has gotten the best of you. I didn't think that'd happen. You've let it eat you alive. That's why I left. It was eating me alive. I had to get away, be with my sister, with Suzie. I had to get away from County. Change is sometimes good, Carter. You just have to make the changes for the good."  
  
"Do you know what it's like to lay on the floor, bleeding to death, and wondering if you're going to die? Things like that change a person. I'm sorry. But it does. A maniac cut me open and killed my med student. A kid, a woman I was responsible for. It's my fault that she's dead. So I'm sorry I'm not the eager-to-please, cute kid I was when you left. I've grown up. I've had to." Carter said bitterly. "I killed a woman because I was too busy chasing a nice piece of ass."  
  
"Carter..." Susan stared at him, the pieces falling into place. "Abby? Were you with Abby when this happened? Carter, it's not your fault."  
  
"It is dammit. How can I not feel responsible!? I was hanging around Abby... Looking after her instead of watching Lucy. You don't know you weren't t-" Carter's pager rang out into the night and he pulled it off his belt. "It's the ER.. A double trauma's coming in.." He muttered, standing and blowing on his hands.  
  
Susan nodded. "Okay. Look, Carter. If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you. I'll give you my number, my address, my emai-" He brushed past her and down the stairs, a slight limp in his quick gait.  
  
"I gotta go Susan." He muttered, stomping down the stairs and to the ER.  
  
****  
  
As the rain fell, the officer bent over the two bodies as the woman stirred, a blanket wrapped around them, the maroon puddle that had formed being washed away by the downpour. Trickling in reddish streams of water that flowed down the streets and into the storm drains, as if to wash away the sins and pain that had occurred there only moments before. "Miss.. Don't move, Miss. We've called the paramedics. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." Eyeing the gun that lay inches from them, he kicked it away towards his partner.  
  
Kerry looked blearily at the police, her makeshift embrace around Malucci's body intensifying as she held his limp body against hers, brushing the hair from his eyes with a free hand. Her eyes slipping closed as she saw Doris and Zadro racing towards them, sirens blaring. "He's a doctor.. We're doctors at County... It was an accident.. Don't.." Kerry broke off, her chest tightening, it was hard to breathe.. She gasped, biting her lip as a wave of pain shuddered through her body.  
  
"Ma'm. Dr..." The officer looked helplessly at Weaver. "Dr.Ma'm... Please.. Lay still. Help's coming. Help's here." He placed a calming hand on her shoulder as the rigs pulled up.  
  
"Don't let him die.. He needs help. Help him.." Kerry murmured weakly, her voice rasping as her lungs filled with blood and the darkness overcame her.  
  
***  
  
"Two GSWs coming in." Randi muttered, as Luka walked past the admit desk. "I already paged Carter. Dr. Weaver's around somewhere. She's not answering her pages, she probably forgot it at Magoo's again." She said dryly as he glared at her.  
  
"That's not funny, Randi." Luka said gruffly. "Have you paged Corday?" He muttered as Carter jogged around the corner with Susan in tow.  
  
"Corday's on bereavement leave." Randi said quietly, hanging up the phone. "Remember?" The doctors that had congregated, stared at each other.  
  
"Page her anyway. We're short staffed, we need all the hands we can get." Luka said hurriedly. "Page Weaver again as well." He looked at Susan who stood uncomfortably at the desk, "You have a license to practice medicine in the state of Illinois?"  
  
"No... But I do." Doug announced as he emerged from the lounge, sipping at a Coke. Luka's eyes narrowed and he sighed defeatedly  
  
"Fine.. Get some scrubs on, we need you." Kovac muttered, walking to the trauma room to scrub in as he heard the ambulances pull up.  
  
***  
  
"It's okay. I understand that you had a meeting to go to Peter. It's okay." Elizabeth sighed as they carried the shopping basket down the aisles looking for replacement windshield wipers. "Here they are, windscreen wipers." She smiled faintly and plopped them in the basket, as her pager went off again.  
  
"Maybe you should look at it." Peter muttered, coming around the corner from another aisle. "It's been going off, the whole time we've been in here."  
  
"I don't want to deal with that right now Peter, I don't want to have to go back into that hospital." Elizabeth whispered sadly, remembering the look on Dave's face and wincing.  
  
"Malucci was a pain in the ass.. You were right to tell him off, Elizabeth." Peter retorted. "You can't stay away from there forever."  
  
"It wasn't right, Peter. Doing it there, in the hallway in front of everyone." Sighing, Elizabeth pulled the beeper out of her coat and looked at it, dropping it back into her pocket, she shoved the basket of items into Peter's arms and jogged to the cash register. "Do you have a telephone I can borrow? I need to make a phone call. I'm a doctor."  
  
The colour dropped from Elizabeth's face as she heard Randi. "Are you sure? You're certain. It's.." Elizabeth closed her eyes, swallowing as she rubbed at her eyes. "Peter... It's Kerry..."  
  
Peter walked up to her, the woman looking like she was in a state of collapsing. "Whoa.. Here..." He put the basket on the conveyor belt and lead her to a bench by the front doors of the store. "Here.. Sit down.. What's wrong?" He said softly, bent over, his face etched with concern.  
  
"I have to go in. Weaver, Malucci.. They've been shot." Elizabeth said quietly, her lips pursed with pain and sorrow. "Malucci shot Weaver..." 


	8. Automatic Flowers: Gun Shy

"One-two-three... Move him..." Luka barked as the paramedics moved the backboard out of the way and rolled him onto the gurney. "What's his status, Doris?" He muttered, lifting up each of Dave's eyelids in succession and checking his responsiveness to light, flicking his penlight in Dave's vison. He grabbed an instrument from the tray and pricked Dave's hand to test for a response to pain. "Dave... Can you hear me? Malucci.. Talk to me, squeeze my hand, dammit."  
  
"Two gunshot wounds to the chest and one in the shoulder. He crashed in the bus, unresponsive hypotension. We got a BP, 70mmHg, but he's unstable." Doris said shakily, her clothes covered in Dave's blood. "We did everything we could, Kovac... God... I can't believe it's Malucci..."  
  
Turning away from the trembling paramedic, he focused on his patient and left Doris to wander out into the hallway. "Chuny!" Luka tossed her a pair of shears. "Cut his damned clothes off, we can't do this with his fucking clothes in the way!" He grumbled irritably as he struggled to get to the site. Luka's finger's probed the area, his gloves already slick with Malucci's blood... Gaining his footing again as a puddle formed under the gurney. God... He closed his eyes momentarily as flashbacks of Lucy and Carter filled his head. No... This wouldn't happen. Not again. "Descending thoracic aorta, we'll have to-" He stumbled shakily, catching his breath again as he muttered orders, unaware of the surgeon who had wandered in.  
  
"You'll have to do a thorocotomy, Kovac... Even you should know that. You're making us foreign doctors look bad." Elizabeth barked half- heartedly, entering the room, gowned and gloved. "Get me the sternal saw, start an emergency thorocotomy. We have to get his bleeding under control! We have to get those bullets out, or at least try."  
  
Kovac sighed, yelling at a nurse, barking orders as he avoided eye contact with Corday. "Call to the bank for 6 units of O-neg, type and cross match.. We have to get some blood into h-"  
  
"Dr.Kovac.. Kovac!!" Haleh yelled frantically as the monitors started to overpower her forceful tone.  
  
"What Haleh!?" He snapped back impatiently as the scalpel made a clean line down his sternum, welling redness as if he'd ran a red crayon down Malucci's chest instead of a knife to mark the sternal saw incision.  
  
"He's not moving any air.. I think we might have to intubate," she said angrily, pissed that he'd been ignoring her, pissed that she'd ignored Dave earlier when he'd asked for a cigarette. Certainly a nic fit couldn't be the cause of all this. But still. Kovac was a pissy little foreigner and nobody was going to talk her HER like that.  
  
"Oh is that right, Dr.Haleh!? I have your permission do I!?" He snapped angrily. "I think we need a chest tube to reinflate his lung actually.. That's what I think! Oh... and look! I'm the doctor!" Luka growled as Haleh stared him down.  
  
"Cut it out you two. I know this is a colleague. We don't need this now. I know we all want the best care for them, but fighting over it, is not going to help him. Give me the saw please, nice incision Luka. Thank you." Elizabeth said with a little less vigor, the fight gone out of her. "Let's get him stable and up to the OR. Luka, do a chest tube.."  
  
****  
  
One room over, Shep was moving the unconcious body of the ER Chief onto a trauma gurney with the help of old colleagues. "Awake and responsive at the scene. LOC on the bus, about 15 minutes.Two gunshot wounds to the abdomen. I never figured I'd see you guys around this neck of the woods again. I figured as good as gone.." He said in amazement to the sight of Susan and Doug in trauma gear. "Is Carol around?"  
  
Doug glared at him. "No... Shep... Carol is at Elizabeth's taking care of our daughters and our god-daughters. We have a job to do here, so if you'll excuse us." Wendy and Malik watched Ross bristle at the mention of Carol and Shep and made quick haste to usher the paramedic back to his ambulance.  
  
"Come on Shep, tell me about those Bulls!" Malik said enthusiastically as he pushed Shep out the doors. "Isn't Jordan amazing? Gotta love his jump shot, man... Zing!"  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Okay, he's stable. Get him up to the OR.. NOW!" Elizabeth, yelled, ripping off her gloves and gown as they wheeled him out into the hall and to the elevators. God... What had she done?!  
  
"You did a good job Elizabeth, he'll be okay," Haleh said reassuringly. "It'll be okay. We're not losing more docs... We can't afford to," she murmured, going back to clean up the room.  
  
*****  
  
"Scalpel with 10 blade. Make an incision in the 5th intercostal space from the border of the sternum to the mid-axillary line..." Romano murmured to himself, his hands working deftly and quickly. "Rib spreaders... QUICKLY!" Shirley glared at him and slammed the spreaders into his hand.  
  
"Certainly, Dr.Romano," she replied crisply.  
  
"Clamp... I need suction," he murmured as his hands probed inside Dave's chest. "Edson.. I need your finger.."  
  
Dale cocked his head slightly as Romano glared at him and snatched his hand. "NOW!" Romano barked, pulling the surgeon's hand into the field. "I found the bleeder, put your finger, there...."  
  
"Dr. Romano...."  
  
"Shut up and keep plugging it, until I find the other hole," Robert grunted irritably. "I didn't ask for your opinion, just your finger. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"  
  
  
  
****  
  
"She's coming around..." Doug murmured as his fingers probed the open wound in her abdomen.  
  
Kerry's eyes fluttered open, groggily taking in her surroundings as fluids dripped into her from the IV pole and blood flowed around Doug's fingers like a lonely warm tide pool. Looking around she saw the doctors working diligently to repair the damage to her kidney as Carter stitched up and stemmed the bleeding, her eyes focussing as her gaze stopped on the doctors working on her, surrounding the gurney. Vaguely familiar. Colleagues, but... She closed her eyes, and opened them again to make sure. Doug Ross and Susan Lewis. She couldn't be in Trauma 2, Kerry thought to herself. She must have heard Shep wrong, after all she was bleeding to death, it was natural to hear things wrong.... To SEE things wrong. Susan Lewis and Doug Ross messing around with her insides. She wasn't in Trauma 2... Kerry thought to herself. I'm in hell.  
  
"She's done.. I've tied it off.. That spleen will probably have to come out.. Maybe one of her kidneys... How are you guys doing?" Carter murmured, making one last knot in his suture and pulling his hands from the wound.  
  
Doug nodded. "Done here.. Everything's clean, bleeding's stopped. She's stable," he replied softly. "Looks like she's going to be okay. We should ship her up."  
  
"Yeah, I can't quite get it.. It's still lodged in.. The last bullet.. I can't get it. Not here anyway," Susan mumbled distractedly. Kerry... On a gurney. Now it wasn't that she hadn't dreamed of this moment. Weaver shot by a co-worker and bleeding on a gurney. It was priceless... It was amazing. It was awe-striking, it was too good to be true. Rather, now.. It was too true to be good... This wasn't good, this was awful.  
  
Carter nodded. "We've..." he sighed, slamming down the phone. "Run out of surgeons... We have Edson and Romano in on Malucci... Anspaugh is doing an apendectomy, Striker is up to his elbows in a bowel resection..."  
  
"We'll do it..."  
  
The heads swivelled to the doorway, Peter's arm around Elizabeth, who had snuggled into his neck tiredly, her eyes swollen from fallen tears. Dave safely upstairs in Romano's capable hands, Elizabeth had changed out of the bloodied trauma gear and went to find Peter who had been vegging out in the lounge, waiting for news.  
  
"But...." Carter's jaw flapped slightly, before he closed his mouth. "Do you think you can? I mean.." he looked back at the woman on the gurney.  
  
  
  
Elizabeth looked up at Peter and nodded slowly, her face sticky as she wiped away the tears. "It's okay, Carter.. We'll do it."  
  
Kerry winced, swallowing the lingering taste of blood in her mouth. Coppery and salty. Was she going to lay here and die while they wondered who was going to take the bullet out? For fuck's sake... "Let them do it... It's not like I have anything to lose, now do I?" she murmered jokingly. "I had Ross and Lewis, inside me.. Why not add Benton and Corday to the mix... Let's have a party... Everyone's invited."  
  
Benton and Elizabeth exchanged wary glances. Who coked up the Chief of the ER and where could they get some?  
  
"Okay... Let's get her upstairs." Carter grunted, taking the gurney as the doctors milled around and helped him push her to the elevator.  
  
"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..." said the small voice on the gurney and the five of them looked down. A small drugged smile on her lips, masking the grimace of pain. To be in so much pain, emotionally and physically, and to be able to smile like an innocent newborn. Definitely, whatever Weaver was on, they wanted some too. Deaths and pain to the left and right of them, and it never seemed like it was ever going to stop. A nice hit of drugs might be good right about now..  
  
****  
  
"Clamp... Good.. Ten blade," Romano stood hunched over his work area concentrating as the machines bleeped, the lamps glowing overhead. Carefully the clamps were placed, Dave's lung exposed and vulnerable as he slowly opened the bullet wound in the left lung, the wall of the tract opened, exposing the inside of the tract. "Suction," he murmured, his focus on tying off the vessels and bronchi that had started to seep the precious blood that had been donated from the bank. "Hang another unit..." Ordered the surgeon as the clamps were then overrun with a suture to control the wound edges, stemming the bleeding.  
  
"Okay.. Everything looks good.. He's stable, pressure's up... He's clotting." Romano murmured as he started suturing the shoulder, the bullets gleaming in the tray. So innocent looking at first, lumps of metal. Except on closer inspection, the jagged edges that splayed out like petals on a flower, the petals that had nearly cost Edson a finger.  
  
[Despite Edson's cursing, swearing and whimpering, Romano demanded that his hand be wrapped, and for him to use his other hand to stem the bleeder. "You have TWO of them DON'T YOU?!" Romano had barked at the surgeon who was poking at the welling blood on his finger. So that was what he had done, placing his finger over the hole in Dave's heart until Romano had both of his hands free again to extricate the notorious bullet.]  
  
"Let's see if we fixed everything..." Romano murmured hopefully as he removed the last clamp on Dave's ventricle. The machines hissed and beeped and clicked happily till the alarms sounded.  
  
"His sats are dropping, Dr. Romano..." Shirley informed him, glancing at the monitors.  
  
"FUCK!"  
  
"Well, maybe the guy really did want to die... Why not just let him go, Dr.Romano? He was a waste of space anyhow." Edson muttered helpfully.  
  
"Shut up Dale..." Romano growled as he turned to Shirley and demanded to see the films as Dave's chest was cracked again. Robert swallowing back vomit as visions of Lucy and the bolt cutters and the staples... It was happening... It was happening all over again.  
  
****  
  
"Do you think he did it on purpose?" Peter murmured as he pulled another shard of bullet from Kerry's bowel and clinked it into the dish. "I always thought Dave was too good to be true... I mean, not that he's saint... He's a royal pain in the ass. I just figured he was too nice as far as Weaver was concerned. Nobody's that far up somebody ass without an agenda. He was just biding his time, I guess.."  
  
"I don't think it was like that Peter..." Elizabeth replied softly, her fingers working almost mechanically as they went through the Pringle's manuever, tying off and repairing the liver. "I think this is my fault. I don't think he meant to shoot her. I don't think she was supposed to be there on that bridge. I think he was trying to shoot himself. This isn't his fault. It's mine."  
  
***  
  
The tiny speck on the film, so small that one could mistake it for dust... But this wasn't dust. It was much more lethal than that. "Dammit..." A petal had come loose from the blooming bullet flower. The jagged metal shard... The bullet fragment lodged itself in Dave's ventricle, filling his chest cavity with bright red fluid. Blood. "Give me some room, dammit! Let me work..." Romano growled at Edson, mentally kicking himself for overlooking it on the x-ray. I don't do that... He thought to himself. I always check twice... Three times. I don't miss things. I don't, I'm not Chen... I'm not Weaver, I'm not Malucci. "I don't fuck up..."  
  
"Pardon me, Dr. Romano?!" Shirley stared at him, her brow cocked. Maybe she was getting light headed or something. She could have sworn... Did he just say he fucked up?  
  
"I fucked up, Shirley... Help me," he murmured, almost pleading. "Suction, please..." The surgeon's once strong and steady hands, faltered for 30 seconds over the man's chest before attacking the heart yet again. "Clamp..." Biting his tongue before he uttered the next phrase, knowing it was the most cliched line in the book. But it fit, dammit. "Don't die on me now you bastard..."  
  
****  
  
"Elizabeth... This isn't your fault... It isn't... Malucci's a grown man... He makes his own decisions, you have nothing to do with this. Believe me. If he did this, and blames you. He's a liar and an attempted murderer. He shot Weaver. He shot himself, You didn't do that. He did. Don't you dare blame yourself for this. He's a coward, either way," Peter muttered angrily as he tied off the spleen and started to remove it.  
  
"Peter... He kissed me. Malucci kissed me," Elizabeth murmured softly, the surgical staff all looking up from their monitors and staring at her.  
  
"Elizabeth... You're just imagining things. This was a bad idea... Working so soon after Mark's death... I knew it was a bad idea." Peter muttered to himself, shaking his head and returning to Kerry's bowel.  
  
"Peter, he kissed me and I kissed him back..." Elizabeth whispered tearfully. "I kissed him back." 


	9. Automatic Flowers: Photographs and Memor...

****chapter 9****  
  
"So they're okay?" Carol hugged Doug tightly, the tears falling. The tears weren't for Malucci or Weaver, really... Just for the mere relief that nobody else had died. It seemed that over the years, County claimed the lives of more doctors than patients, from Gant to Knight, it didn't seem like the staff at County ever got a break and that wasn't how it was supposed to be. Doctors weren't supposed to be the patients... They weren't supposed to end up in the morgue. She shuddered slightly, foggy memories of her own ER experience filling her head with an ominous humming like an angry hornet caught under a drinking glass.  
  
"Romano just closed up Dave and Kerry's in recovery right now," Luka smiled wanly. It was a small victory. Despite the past few weeks everything seemed to be coming up roses, so-to-speak. Granted, it wasn't perfect, after all, it wasn't every day that one of your residents shot the ER Chief, but you couldn't be picky. They weren't dead and that was what was good. They weren't dead.  
  
****  
  
"Kerry... Dr. Weaver. Kerry, can you hear me? Dr. Weaver? Can you hear me?" The anaethesiologist hovered over the gurney like the spirit of a dead soldier hovering over its body. Babcock moved restlessly until Kerry Weaver began to stir on the bed, her eyes fluttering, her stomach twisting and churning as she realized where she was. The only pain she felt was the knotting of her stomach, reacting to the anaesthetic, causing her body to lurch forwards and spew weakly all over herself and the sheets. What had happened again?? Her memory foggy remembering the bridge... The gun... A semiautomatic, hair trigger.. Dangerous piece of machinery. It'd go off if you sneezed. She'd seen the damage it could do in her ER many times. Now it had been in the hands of one of her doctors and it'd nearly had killed them.. Or had it. "Malucci??" she whispered softly, her eyes closing for a second as she caught her breath. "He's okay?"  
  
"He's fine Kerry... They're bringing him into recovery now... Malucci arrested, but we regained his rhythm and the rest of the surgery went smoothly. Dr. Malucci is recovering in post op."  
  
Romano smiled wanly. "He was a tough save, but he had the best working on him after all," the surgeon puffed out his chest slightly but his gaze wavered.  
  
Kerry nodded. "That's good..."  
  
****  
  
"Dave?" Elizabeth hovered in the doorway, the man on the bed covered in wires and tubes. Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned up against the door frame, her head hung as tears rolled down her cheeks.  
  
Slowly he opened one eye, then the other, his head heavy and his body leaden. He felt fuzzy all over and generally uneasy. Slowly he swallowed, his throat raw and he coughed. Dave's eyes focused, witnessing the sobbing woman in the entrance and sighed. "Elizabeth?"  
  
Her head snapped up, an expression of stricken disbelief clouding her face. "I... I just wanted to check on you." She whispered quietly, her voice choked with tears.  
  
"Yeah, sure you did. You can leave now.." Dave winced, holding in a breath before painfully exhaling. "Go, Dr. Corday. I want you to go."  
  
"But, Dave... I.. I wanted to apologize." Elizabeth murmured, her hands clenched and unclenched at her side, before folding them in front of her and messing with a painful hangnail. "David, I.."  
  
"What? For stringing me along? For.. For making me fall in love with you?" Dave said bitterly, his eyes glistening with tears. He wished so much to be able to turn away from her in the bed, but the pain shuddering through his body were like the strongest 4-point restraints known to man. "Get out."  
  
"David..." Elizabeth repeated, quietly. "I... I'm sorry... I just.." Sighing, she walked towards his bed, and pulled up a chair. Pulling the curtain around his bed, Elizabeth leaned in and planted a warm, loving kiss on his lips. Taking him in her arms, she pulled him in, pulled him close as she drank him in passionately. Her breathing growing heavy as an IV-free hand slipped up her top, kneading a brassiere covered breast, his fingers slipping inside and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
Elizabeth's breath quickening as she climbed further onto the bed, pain resonated in his tear-moistened eyes and she faltered slightly, before Dave pulled her close again. "It's okay..." He whispered in her ear as his hand slipped gingerly down the front of her pants, popping the button and zipper expertly from the inside out.  
  
She nodded, allowing his hand to slip further, thrusting her hips forward a little as Dave's hand kneaded and stroked, her thighs growing hot as his hand quickened its pace, her breath hitching slightly, as he suddenly hit the right spot. Her legs nearly buckled ontop of him, but despite the mind numbing pleasure, she managed to keep her wits about her. "You sure you want to?" She looked at him carefully, worriedly. The man had just gone through major surgery and now he wanted sex... "I'm not sure if this is a very good idea, you can barely move... I'm afraid I'll hurt you." Elizabeth whispered, trying to keep her voice down. The nurses had come back from lunch. Hopefully they'd take the drawn curtains to mean that Dave was taking a nap. Hopefully.  
  
"There's a reason you're on top. I want this... I'm sure I want it with you... The thought of not having you. The thought of not spending my life with you. I..." Dave sighed hoarsely, wiping away a tear. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't be putting this on you. It's me, it's my own stupid fault. I can't even kill myself properly, and I nearly killed another person in the process." He looked at her, stricken. "I didn't did I?"  
  
Elizabeth shook her head and sighed softly, "Dave..." What had she done to deserve this? A dead husband, and a young kid of a doctor who was strangely so in love with her that he tried to kill himself. Were hate and love so closely related that it caused this sort of strife?  
  
"I mean.. I don't mean to put this all on you. It was my decision, a stupid cowardly way out. I was feeling sorry for myself. I don't even have a reason to feel sorry for myself I guess... I mean, I have my job... I've fucked up so many times. I'm surprised I still have it, being the constant failure and disappointment that I am. I mean, you're right. Why should I feel sorry for myself, when you're right!? Look, just go.. I'm sorry I got you into this." Dave sighed and struggled to sit up and grunted in pain.  
  
"It's okay. I'm sorry I came in. I just wanted to see how you were. I don't think you're a bad bloke. I just think you don't try. You're too aloof. You don't seem to care about our patients as people, and they are, Dave. They're people, it's our job to fix them. But it's also our job to make them feel better, to feel like they matter." Shuddering, Elizabeth slowly climbed off the bed, a hand wiping her face clean of the sticky tears. "You DO matter, you know. Despite anything I've said to the contrary. We all do care about you. Why else would Kerry have come looking for you?"  
  
"It's a little family here, and now it's been knocked off balance, my husband is gone, Dave. My husband is dead. Your ER looked to him for guidance, he was the main pivot of everything down there. Everyone's feeling a little lost right now." She stared at her hands, idly stroking her left over the right and then switching. A nervous tic that Dave eyed carefully, she didn't seem aware that she was doing it. "I-I'm feeling a little lost myself, and it scares me." Elizabeth swallowed, clearing her throat and straightening up her stance. "S-so if I overreact a little... I'm sorry. I'm sorry Dave. I... I care about you too."  
  
Grabbing her stethoscope off the floor, she stood, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips. "I'm sorry." Walking from the room, Dave watched her go, wondering what exactly those two words had meant.  
  
****  
  
The drive home was slow, the traffic backed up and Elizabeth huddled behind the wheel, a brown paper bag of groceries sitting beside her on the street, and the radio blaring to drown out her thoughts. All I have to do is go home and make some dinner, make some dinner and pretend everything is fine. Because everything is fine. Ella was home with the sitter, Dani had picked her up from daycare on her way home from class and the two of them were probably finger painting and making a bloody mess.  
  
"Photographs and memories. Christmas cards you sent to me. All that I have are these to remember you."  
  
Elizabeth sniffled, not this song... anything but this song... Even Lo- fidelity-bloody-Allstars... But not this...  
  
"Memories that come at night. Take me to another time, back to a happier day. When I called you mine."  
  
God.... Jim Croce... Why bloody Jim??? Why now? Why when she had one husband dead, and a possible companion laid up in the hospital. Laid up because she'd nearly killed him with her hateful words. Hateful words fueled by her own insecurities and sadness. Words that she'd never meant.  
  
"But we sure had a good time when we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks. Oh how I loved you then."  
  
If Mark was here... If Mark was here, he'd hold her, kiss the top of her head, tell her that everything was going to be okay. That he'd be with her forever, he'd never leave her. But he did! He left. He left and he hadn't wanted to, it wasn't fair. He never said good-bye. It wasn't bloody fair. Bloody wedding vows. 'til death do us part.' There hadn't been a clause in there saying that he'd be dead before their next wedding anniversary. Nothing that said he wouldn't live to see his daughters grow up. That he wouldn't see his grandchildren. That he'd cease to exist. Elizabeth started to sob and the traffic started to move, albeit slowly.  
  
"Summer skies and lullabies nights we couldn't say good-bye and of all of the things that we knew. Not a dream survived."  
  
He'd promised her so many things. Summer getaways, to show her the cottage that his family had in Maine while his Dad had been stationed there. To swim with his daughters in the same lake he had learned how to fish. To sleep in the same musty bunk beds. To relive something of his childhood that he could pass onto his daughters. Now all she had was broken promises and...  
  
"Photographs and memories all the love you gave to me. Somehow it just can't be true. That's all I've left of you."  
  
All she had left was the photos, the wedding, the one tacked on the wall of Mark in his goofy hat and Rachel in the far corner giving him one of her killer looks. How dare he embarrass her!? Moments after that photo had been taken, he'd caught that look and thrown his daughter into a snowbank. The frosty look of death had been replaced by a surprised squeal of laughter as the daughter and father started a snowball fight. The birthdays, the Christmas parties. The good times.  
  
"But we sure had a good time when we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks. Oh how I loved you then...."  
  
Turning the wheel sharply, Elizabeth pulled off the road and slammed the radio angrily, ceasing it to work. Clenched fists beat the steering wheel, gripping it as she screamed, anguished wails of pain as Elizabeth started to sob uncontrollably and slump into her seat. God... Mark was gone.. Mark was gone and was never coming back. She'd never make dinner for him. She'd never make his side of the bed, or pick up his dirty socks off the floor, off the heater or off the doorknob...  
  
She'd never make him breakfast, Elizabeth would never rouse him with a kiss, or wake him up with a friendly cock tease. She'd never watch him struggle to balance work with home and then watch helplessly as he felt guilty for neglecting Rachel or losing a patient when he picked family over work.  
  
He'd never come home late from work because he'd been stuck calming down another orphan caused by a drunk driver. He'd never come home late because of his tireless need to counsel his staff, whether it be a struggling med student or a worried co-worker. He'd never come home again. He was always there for everyone, but he'd always gotten the short end of the stick. Wasn't rich like Carter, or handsome like Doug. Didn't have the cute accent like Luka. Elizabeth sighed, remembering a time when she'd thought that Doug Ross looked like quite a catch. She'd even fancied him slightly, then found out he was sort of dating Carol. That's where it had ended. Mark, Mark had been a good, stable sort. Always seemed to be running into bad luck, but the fates were against him from day one, one struggle after another, whether it be a tyrant of a daughter or a beating, or being sued, or a brain tumour. The struggles never ceased and he never got any of the glory.  
  
She even knew, guiltily that she sometimes felt that the pairing of her and Mark had been forced. Both of them had been terribly lonely, it had been a relationship of convenience. Have someone there and you'll no longer be lonely. Or so the saying went. Sometimes he angered her so, choosing Rachel over his own wife. She knew he felt guilty for having Rachel in St. Louis while he was in Chicago, but that was his bitch of an ex-wife's fault. Not his.  
  
Why had he been punished?! Why was he dead? Why did he have to leave me all alone? Elizabeth shuddered with the painful sobs, unending like they'd never cease. She wished Mark was here to hold her and kiss her and tell her it'd be all right. He was never coming back. 


	10. Automatic Flowers: A friend In need's a ...

"Is Mark here?" Frank looked up from his crime novel, scowling at the sound of the voice. The young woman smiled expectantly. "Mark Greene? He's a doctor here. Is he working today?"  
  
Frank sighed, slowly pulling his feet off the desk and sitting up. "He's dead... Who are you?" He muttered softly, putting the book down. "I can give you the number of his wife, if it's something important."  
  
Dead? His wife? The woman squinted slightly and a small moan passed her lips. "Dead? He's dead? How?" Mark's dead?  
  
"Brain tumour. You want Dr.Corday's number or not?" Frank grunted uncomfortably, who was this chick? Somebody Greene had been sleeping with on the side? She was cute, if not a little dopey looking.  
  
What?! His wife? Elizabeth Corday was his wife? She remembered meeting Jen. The lawyer from St.Louis. Man... What an ice queen. "Brain tumour??? Dr.CORDAY?" Cynthia Hooper's eyebrows shot up and she grabbed the edge of the admit desk to steady herself. "I... I... No. It's okay. It's fine. Is there a place I can sit?"  
  
Frank watched her carefully. She wasn't going to pass out was she? That wouldn't be good. They were short-staffed as it was. "Malik... Can you help this woman to chairs!?" He bellowed as he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. "Dr.Corday!"  
  
***  
  
"Look, I'm not taking no for an answer, Dave... You're coming home with me." Elizabeth murmured softly as she pushed the wheelchair, vaguely aware of Frank's presence behind her in the hallway.  
  
  
  
"I don't feel right about this, Dr. Corday..." Dave muttered, staring at his hands. His bags had been packed. The forms signed. Equipment and supplies had been stacked up beside his suitcases. It looked like they were bringing home half of County. "I already told you that I wasn't your responsibility. This.. All of this it wasn't your fault. You don't have to do this."  
  
"Cut that out, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to." Elizabeth hissed in reply, stopping the wheelchair and allowing Frank to catch up. "What do you want?! I'm taking Dr.Malucci home. I don't think he'd appreciate the fact that you're disrupting his tapioca pudding time." She replied sarcastically as Dave wrinkled his nose in disgust.  
  
"Dr. Greene's girlfriend's here... She didn't know he was dead... Cindy Hooper or something.." Frank muttered uncomfortably, looking back at Cynthia who was being calmed down by Haleh.  
  
"GIRLFRIEND!?" Elizabeth and Dave looked at each other and at Frank who began to stammer.  
  
"No.. I.. I think she's an old girlfriend. She didn't know you were married to him, Dr.Corday." Frank said hurriedly. "Cynthia Hooper.. That's it... Randi says she was a deskclerk or something."  
  
Elizabeth looked at Frank and over to the woman slumped in chairs. It couldn't be. Mousy, little meek Cynthia... Back for more... Elizabeth hung her head, tears seeping through closed eyes as she recalled the pain that Mark had endured through his mother's illness. Cynthia couldn't handle it. She'd shown up in San Diego to surprise him and it had ultimately blown up in her face. Elizabeth remembered how hurt he had been, returning to the hospital to find she'd left County. Doug had talked him out of looking for her. The poor little farm girl had left Chicago's urban hospital with her tail between her legs. "Cynthia?"  
  
Frank nodded. "Yeah... That's what Randi said. What do I tell her?" He looked at Dave who was shuffling a pack of cards that had been in his duffle. Just to keep his hands busy, just to seem like he wasn't paying attention to all this.  
  
Finally his curiosity got the better of him and he looked over to chairs where Randi had perched herself in front of the sobbing Cynthia with a cup of coffee. She wasn't bad looking actually, sorta oozed 'hay-seed' but she looked great. As she stood with the help of Randi and Haleh, he could see her short skirt and lowcut blouse, the navy suit only excentuating her long legs. Cynthia Hooper may have been dumber than mud, but she was built like a goddess. "Mark dated HER!?" Dave sputtered, earning a glare from Elizabeth.  
  
"Yes, Dr. Malucci. They dated briefly," she replied, her jaw clenched. Why was she so on edge all of a sudden?! Elizabeth pursed her lips and sighed deeply. How was Cynthia to know that Mark had married? It wasn't her fault. But why was she here!? Why now... Why now after all of this!? Looking to Frank and over to Cynthia who had been ushered by the nurses and deskclerks to the admit desk. Cups of coffee being foisted into her shaking hands. Elizabeth shuddered, grabbing Dave's chair and pushing it out of the ER.  
  
"Where are we going? I thought you were going to talk to her!?" Dave said, craning his neck to see the desk as Elizabeth pushed him outdoors. "Elizabeth? Are you okay?" The chair pushed up to the minivan, the only noise was the click as the brakes were locked into place. "Elizabeth?"  
  
"Can you walk, Dr.Malucci?" Elizabeth murmured as she picked up the bags and placed them into the back of the van. Her hands shaking as she slipped everything in safely and slammed the door shut. "Can you get up by yourself?" Her voice shook, choked with tears, ignoring his worried pleas.  
  
"Yeah... I'm fine." Dave grunted in reply, watching her carefully, his knuckles whitened around the armrests as he pushed himself up on trembling legs. A hand flailed backwards grasping Elizabeth's arm and he reddened. "Sorry."  
  
"I DID ask you if you could get up by yourself." Elizabeth scolded him lightly, helping him to the van.  
  
"I did get up by myself, I never said I could actually stand." Dave smiled sheepishly. "So you're not going to talk to her?" He watched as Elizabeth's expression darkened.  
  
"No, Dave... I'm not going to talk to her, Mark's ex-girlfriends are not my responsibility. She seems to have been taken care of by the staff. There's no need for me to intervene. Why should I?" She looked at him pointedly, her eyes shimmery with tears. Brusquely Elizabeth turned her head, wiping her face with a tissue. "Sorry."  
  
"It's okay... I'm sorry for pushing the issue, that's my fault." Dave sighed. "So... You're taking me home? What side of the bed do I get?" He looked at her worriedly, his grin lopsided and sad.  
  
"You're sleeping in the guest room. I don't want to start anything... Rachel's finishing out high school here in Chicago. She's living in the house, I don't think it'd look very good if I brought somebody home so close after her..." Elizabeth sighed, her voice choked with tears. "her father's death..." She slumped up against the vehicle, trembling.  
  
"I'm driving..." Dave replied, grabbing the keys out of Elizabeth's hand and making his way to the driver's side. "Get in, I'm taking us home."  
  
"No.. Dave... You can't..." Elizabeth murmured, getting into the passenger's side and buckling up. "We have to go and pick up some things first, don't we?"  
  
Dave smiled with relief. "Thanks... I almost forgot all about him, you sure we have time?" Elizabeth nodded, and he started up the car. "Great... Luka's place it is." He reached out with his right arm, hand on the gearshift as he struggled to put it into drive... His arm shaking with exertion, Dave biting his lip as he yanked on it. "Fuck... It's stuck."  
  
"Stuck? It can't be stuck, Dave.." Elizabeth reached for the stickshift and pulled as it moved smoothly down into drive. "I think you better let me drive..."  
  
****  
  
"Carter, if you're not careful, you're gonna fall off." The voice was familiar... Something about it, the thickness of it, the forcefulness. The sort of accent that was prevalent in the streets of Pittsburgh. Carter turned around from his perch on the roof. Leaning over the side and watching the cars and people scurrying.  
  
"What do you want Anna?? A little late for the funeral, isn't it?" He said angrily, stooping and grabbing a handful of stones off the roof and tossing them one by one, off the side.  
  
"You're going to smash somebody's windshield doing that, John..." Anna DelAmico said carefully as she crept across the roof. He'd have ever right to pitch her over the side, if he so chose. "I'm sorry I didn't make the funeral. I really am... I'm sorry. I was busy."  
  
"Busy!? A man died, Anna... A colleague of yours. You should have been here." Carter said angrily. "Everybody else made it. Why not you? What was more important than being here when we needed you?"  
  
"Would you have really wanted me here? After what I'd done to you? After not even a letter after what I'd heard what had happened to you? You were STABBED John... I didn't come back to Chicago for you. Are you saying that Mark is more important than you?" Anna sighed, ducking her head to hide the falling tears and ran a hand through her new short blonde pixie cut. "I would have come back for both... You guys were my family as much as anything... But I had to sever ties... I knew if I came back for you... I'd never want to leave. I'd never leave."  
  
"And there's something wrong with that? What's wrong with being with me, Anna? What's wrong with being with somebody who treats you like a human being and doesn't suck you dry? I saw what that bastard was doing to you." His body slouched, he leaned up against edge of the roof and slumped onto a crate.  
  
"I'm married, John... I married that bastard... He's clean now. He's not an addict anymore, John.. He's clean.." Anna said pleadingly, her eyes moist. "Please... We're happy. Be happy for us."  
  
"No... You can't cure being an addict, Anna... He's still an addict, once an addict, always an addict. He'll always crave something. One day he'll slip... They all do." John muttered angrily. "So don't feed me your bullshit."  
  
"Oh..."Anna looked at him haughtily. "And what would you know about it!? Mr.Moneybags... Been hanging around the slums of Chicago have you? Getting a feel for the life of an addict were ya? Then you went home to your perfect little mansion, and left them in the gutter."  
  
"You don't know anything about me. You left, remember?! You couldn't be bothered to come back and see how I was. I was in rehab..." He watched her eyebrows shoot up. "I became dependent on my meds... I became an addict. I used other patients' medication to get high. I used what I could. Finally I got caught. I'm a recovering addict. I will always be an addict. There's no cure for that, you of all people should know that." Carter mumbled softly, pushing himself off his seat and walking to the exit.  
  
"John, wait... Please..." Anna sighed, lingering by the edge of the building, she peered over the side and shuddered. "Please... Wait."  
  
"For what? For you to now fall in love with me because I'm not the pretentious prick you thought I was? So we can go on a little buddy trip to see my cousin who's gorked himself into a facility for the mentally handicapped? To see the man who used to take photographs of 'Chase Carter originals' struggle to write his own name in block letters? I don't need your pity." Carter screamed at her, his fists clenched. "I don't need your shit right now Anna... One of our doctors is dead from an inoperable brain tumour and two other are laid up in hospital beds because one couldn't handle all the fucking stress." His eyes narrowed and he turned his head sharply, spitting over the side of the building. "Yeah... One our own cracked and shot Kerry Weaver. Funny, right? Get over yourself, Anna... I needed you two years ago. I don't need you anymore."  
  
***  
  
"Thanks again for watching him, Luka.." Dave chuckled, scratching him under the chin, "So is he fluent in Croatian yet?"  
  
Luka looked strangely at the large furry grey tabby that was curled up in Dave's arms. "Fluent in Croatian? I'm not sure I understand you, Dr. Malucci."  
  
"You know... I'd promised Boomer some Croatian language lessons while you were taking care of him..." Dave smiled gratefully.  
  
"I spoke to him in Croatian, if that's what you mean, Dave..." He replied carefully, watching the man in front of him. He seemed thinner, gaunt, almost a ghost of his former self as it were. There was a familiar haunting pain that glimmered in Dave's eyes, that Luka had come to know so well. "Are you okay?"  
  
The man ducked his head into his cat's coat and nodded wordlessly before looking up. "I'm fine, Luka. I'm good." Elizabeth stood by the van, the engine idling as she waited for Dave and his furry friend. "I guess I better get going." He murmured, meeting her gaze.  
  
"I guess you better. Take care, Dave." Luka whispered, watching the man walk towards the vehicle. "Wait..." His hand darted out, grabbing Dave's shoulder. The sudden jarring caused a low growl from Boomer and, pain to shoot down Dave's slinged arm.  
  
Dave grunted, gritting his teeth, his eyes watering and he turned, his adam's apple bouncing convulsively as if he was trying to swallow down the pain. "Yeah?" He muttered thickly, putting a tighter grip on the squirming feline, his whole body shuddered with pain. A painkiller would be good right about now. Dave thought to himself.  
  
"Anytime you want to talk. Anytime.. Day, night... When ever. Phone me, page me, grab me in the hallway. I mean it, Dr.Malucci..." Luka said lowly, "Please." His head dropped and he stared at the ground, "I'm sorry this happened."  
  
"Whoa...." Dave cocked a brow. "Man... This was NOT your fault. I was the fucknuts with the gun. Not you."  
  
"I am a doctor. I should have saw the signs. Depression is a disease like any other. There are symptoms... I didn't see it.." Luka murmured shaking his head sadly.  
  
"Why do you do that? Take on all that shit? You're gonna get even more wound up than I was if you keep doing that. It's not your fault. Nobody 'saw it coming' as they say. So I wasn't running around freaking out. Should I have been? If I'd burst into tears in the middle of a trauma, would you guys have put me in a rubber room and taken away my shoelaces? Or would you have dismissed it as another Malucci stunt?"  
  
"Dave... I-" Luka stammered, but Dave cut him off, shaking his head.  
  
"You would have... Because that's the way it is. That's the way it will always be. Nobody thought Carter would be shooting up after trauma cases. But he was. Nobody saw that coming, and everybody blamed themselves for it as well. Some things just happen, Kovac. Some times you can't stop it. Sometimes it's just fate." Dave looked over to Elizabeth who smiled at him weakly and nodded, climbing into the van. "I gotta go, Luka..."  
  
Dave picked up the cat, which had squirmed out of his hands, and tucked it under his arm. "I'll take you up on your offer... If I need to talk."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
****  
  
"Dave... Why are we listening to this?" Elizabeth said with a tight, polite smile. "What is it?" The music blared through the speakers. The crudeness of it made her skin crawl, but at the same time...  
  
"It's Denis Leary.... Give it a chance, it grows on you." Dave smiled, leaning back in his seat, with his cat on his lap. "We're going to my place first. Right?"  
  
"Yes... We are... Dave..." Elizabeth looked scornfully at her CD player and sighed.  
  
"Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the American Dream. About me. About you. The way our American hearts beat down in the bottom of our chests. About the special feeling we get in the cockles of our hearts, maybe below the cockles, maybe in the sub-cockle area. Maybe in the liver. Maybe in the kidneys. Maybe even in the colon, we don't know."  
  
"I'm just a regular Joe with a regular job. I'm your average white suburbanite slob. I like football and porno and books about war. I've got an average house with a nice hardwood floor. My wife and my job, my kids and my car. My feet on my table, and a cuban cigar. But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested..."  
  
"Oh no? No Way. Uh-uh. No, I've gotta go out and have fun. At someone else's expense. Oh yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah. I drive really slow in the ultrafast lane. While people behind me are going insane. I'm an asshole. (He's an asshole, what an asshole). I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, such an asshole)."  
  
"I use public toilets and piss on the seat. I walk around in the summertime saying, "How about this heat?" I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole) I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)."  
  
"Sometimes I park in handicapped spaces. While handicapped people make handicapped faces.  
  
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole.) I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole)  
  
Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song. Ranting and raving and carrying on. Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong. Naaaah!-"  
  
Elizabeth sighed, switching off the CD. "As much as I like American music, I have to admit Dave, that's a little too much for me to handle right now." She said quietly. "I'm sorry."  
  
"What? It's okay... It's your car... Let's just get to my place and get my stuff, okay?" Dave smiled uneasily, pulling the CD out and putting it back into its case. "No problem... Yeah... Take a right here and keep going, turn left at the last set of lights."  
  
*****  
  
"John... I came back to make peace. I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry about what happened. If this hurt you so much, why didn't you write me a letter, how come I had to make the first move? I had to hear about it on the news. I figured, if you didn't tell me, that you meant not to tell me and you therefore didn't want to talk to me." Anna sighed, swirling the spoon in the cold viscous coffee.  
  
"That's a lot of assumptions, Anna... I guess I made my own assumptions as well, but you have to admit, disappearing back to Philly, not writing or saying goodbye... That pretty much says 'Fuck you suckers!' Doesn't it?" Carter sneered bitterly, taking a sip of his own coffee, curling his lip and then dumping the sludge down the sink. "You left. I figured you were as good as gone. As well as everybody else here. Doug left, Carol left. We never heard hide nor hair of them until Mark's funeral, same with everyone else. When people leave, they never come back... Except for Deb..." He added with a whisper.  
  
"Deb?"  
  
"We were med students together... She left, then she came back... New name, her Dad slipped some money to the guys upstairs. Now she's on staff.. She's been there for me... We've been there for each other. I was her birth coach. It's been good." Carter breathed deeply and then looked up from his empty mug. "I've missed you, Anna..."  
  
Slowly she leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips as she pulled back. They leaned in again, kissing again, as their breathing became rhythmic and the movements, in tune with each other. Pulling away, Carter looked at her, his breathing elevated, his cheeks flushed. "What was that?"  
  
"A kiss..." Anna murmured, staring at the tabletop. "I... I've missed you too." She could feel him tensing in front of her, the wall going up again. "Sorry."  
  
"This... It's nuts!" Carter stood up sharply, his chair falling backwards and clattering to the floor. "What in the hell is wrong with you!? You show up... AFTER Mark's funeral. In the middle of angst central, two doctors are recovering from shotgun wounds and you expect me to what? Welcome you back!?"  
  
"No... I'm-I'm married Carter. I told you that." Anna sniffled lamely. Crap. What in the hell was this? Hormones? Insanity? Something in the water? God, he sure had a cute ass.. It was as cute as she remembered it.  
  
"What in the hell!? Anna? Are you insane? You are insane... You're-" Carter looked at her wide-eyed as Anna came around the table, grabbing him, her hand slipping up the back of his shirt, her arms wrapping around his slim frame and pulling him closer. The mouths melded, breaths quickened, tongues darted and danced and the two stumbled backwards against the lockers. Carter moaned slightly in protest as she started to undress him, unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off around his shoulders. Her hands splayed out and running slowly down his chest as they kissed, Anna breaking off and kissing his jawline, neck and shoulders. "-nuts... Get off of me." Carter muttered, pushing her backwards. "Go back to your husband, and leave me alone."  
  
****  
  
"Kerry... Are you sure you're fit to leave? Your leg..." Doug murmured worriedly as he watched her struggle awkwardly off the gurney. Crazy bitch, he saved her fucking life and she was going to fall out of bed and split her head open.  
  
"Shut up Ross... Shut up and get me my belongings bag. I'm leaving. If you won't get me signed out, then I'll leave AMA. What are you even doing here!? You don't even work here. Get out." Kerry grumbled, steadying herself as she grabbed onto the bedside table.  
  
"Who cares if I don't work here, Kerry? As much as I dislike you, I'm not going to stand here and watch you fall on your face. Get back into bed or I'm calling the nurses AND Romano. I'm sure they can get you back into bed. One way or the other." Doug growled, "Dammit, Kerry don't be such a bitch all your life and listen for once. Who says you always have to be in charge and right all the time?"  
  
"I said get out, Doug." Kerry said breathlessly. Dammit. Her breathing slowed as she slipped back onto the bed. The only good thing was that Dave was discharged today. Not that it was any of her business, but rumour was, he'd gone home with Elizabeth. But that wasn't any of her business. As long as he was okay.  
  
It seemed like old staff and friends were coming out of the woodwork lately. Jeanie had been by earlier with Carlos and Reggie. It had been great to see them again and both had shared their condolences about Mark. It was interesting how a death of a colleague brought everyone together and unfortunate that it had taken a death to bring everyone back. It only brought questions to the surface as to whether she ever would have seen any of her colleagues again if Mark hadn't succumbed to cancer.  
  
If Mark hadn't died, would she be laying here in a hospital bed, fill of stitches and staples from an anguished resident's attempt at coping? If Mark hinged on all of this, then he was still the cornerstone of the ER... He was still the rock that everything stemmed from, 6 feet under or not, Dr.Greene was still in the ER in mind, and spirit, if not in body. 


End file.
